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Sketches of Camp Life 



IX THE WII.DS OF 



The Aroostook Woods 

AROOSTOOK COUNTY, MAINE 

FISHING, CANOEING, CAMPING, SHOOTING 

AND TRAPPING 

BEING TRUE STORIES OF ACTUAL LIFE IN CAMP 



Written by Charles C. West 

ii 



DEDICATED TO 
MY OLD FRIEND THE WORTHY COMMODORE OF THE BIRCH-BARK FLEET 

WALTER MANSUR 



Trade Supplied by O , 

The New England News Company, 
Hoston, Mass. 






Copyright, 1S92 
Chakles C. West, Houlton, Maine 



Boston 

Pkinted by A. T. Bliss & Co. 

in Milk Street 

1S92 



CONTENTS. 



Introduction ....... 5 

The Ramble ...... 9 

Our Pretty Evergreens . . . . .14 

While on the way to Camp . . . . 17 

A Profitable Outing ...... 23 

Boys, you need not be Lost .... 27 

Should the Hunter be Lost .... 30 

Our Red Squirrels ..... 37 

The Aroostook Sable ..... 40 

The Aroostook Partridge .... 47 

The Broad Barren ...... 59 

The Aerial Blind ...... 72 

The Rocky Bluff ...... S3 

Joe and Cronie ...... S9 

A Little Bear Hunt . . . . . 11S 

Trapping the Otter . . . . . 123 

In the Velvet ....... 131 

Looking for Antlers ..... 140 

The Musojjash ....... 157 

Down the Mattawamkeag .... 166 

Deer Tracking ....... 1S0 

Fishing through the Ice ..... 193 

The Beaver ....... 20S 

On the Line of Traps . . . . . 219 

Over the Trapping Line ..... 236 

The Captain and Crew . . . . . 251 




. _ _ *tr/ <,.._. - .(0?l.. 



BUCK AND DOE CARIBOU. 



INTRODUCTION. 



AROOSTOOK, the pride, the Eden of Maine, as beautiful 
a lake and forest country as the sun ever shone on. It 
is situated in the northern part of the State and is its largest 
county. If you were standing upon her mountains, the beau- 
tiful panorama thus presented to view might give you a slight 
idea of this- magmificient region. Rich valleys show them- 
selves, with the courses of their charming rivers and streams 
plainly seen. Chains of hills reaching away far as the eye 
can see. Vast acres of rich level and rolling lands lying 
between the ranges, well wooded and timbered, well watered 
by lake and stream, river, brook and spring. Here the 
toothsome trout are everywhere to be found, leaping in the 
sparkling waters. Here our large fine game come and go at 
every point and cove, casting their shadows upon the waters 
as they come down from the hills and through the valleys for 
a cool drink, and to feed upon the sweet and tender water- 
grasses. Aroostook, and glorious forests of Aroostook, of 
you, how little is as vet known. How little is as yet known 
of your rich acres, lying waiting to give health, wealth and 
happiness to the pioneer. How little is as yet known of your 



The Aroostook Woods. 



beautiful forests and waters, almost swarming with noble 
game and choice fish, the truly, real elysium of the sports- 
man. 

How few know of you, and, comparatively speaking, how 
very few from the busy cities will ever find time in their 
hurried lives to visit and look upon your prosperous towns, 
thriving villages, rich, productive farms, beautiful forests and 
lakes, and charming scenery. And now, of these lakes and 
streams, these fine old woods, of the game to be found here, 
of their habits, and of our manner of hunting and trapping 
them, I am going to tell you. 

For very many years a resident of Aroostook, I have spent 
much time in the fall and winter months in the big woods, 
because of its delightful scenery, healthy atmosphere, and the 
gratifying opportunity of observing the habits of the wild 
animals and birds. This constant association with nature in 
her virgin beauty, instead of creating the careless oblivion of 
surroundings usually born of familiarity, has increased my 
ardent love for the forest, lake and stream. Wait one 
moment, please. The boy looking over your shoulder must 
be answered. My ears have actually grown larger from eager 
listening for the game. I overheard his whispered remark, 
saying, "I wonder if he really does know all about the 
woods?" No, indeed ! and not but just a little bit, and should 
be only too happy to spend more than half the remaining 
years of my life in the wildwoods, enjoying its health-giving 
properties, watching and studying all its beautiful occupants. 

Writing a book is something I never before attempted or 
even thought of, and being well aware that one should learn 
his trade before he can or even should attempt to execute fine 
work, I shall strive to really interest you, and must beg that 



Introduction. 



you will excuse the rambling manner in which I place these 
outings before you. 

I shall endeavor to hold your attention by describing many 
actual huntings in which myself, with pleasant companions 
have been engaged. Excuse us then, if we did not succeed 
in killing large lions and fierce catamounts sufficient for a big 
story, and, if you please, we will not speak of the many poor 
shots we have made, neither need you be told of the chilly 
hours we have sat with cold feet waiting for a bite. 

Occasionally, we have kept a small diary, noting down a 
successful hunt, taking a few minutes of an outing when 
thinking it would be of interest and use to refer to, and from 
these we will glean something, hoping it will interest and 
perhaps help along those young sportsmen who have as yet 
had but little experience in the big woods. I shall write 
only from our own cruisings and campings, in the simplest 
manner, that' the youngest may understand it, depending as 
we have said, upon our own practice and observation, trust- 
ing and hoping it will find favor with those that love the 
wild woods. 

I have supposed that as you are reading this, you love the 
woods, with its hills and valleys, the rivers and brooks, the 
hunting and fishing, and are quick enough to follow me in 
this medley style of writing which I cannot seem to help. 
But as vou are to line a woodcock through the green leaves, 
having your eve upon the bird, or his line of flight, and not 
upon the gun alone, bringing him down and securing him, 
even thus I am expecting you to line me through these thick- 
ets, catching sight again when emerging from the tangle. 

It is not really intended in these writings to surprise the old 
trappers with new and novel ideas superior to their own, 



The Aroostook Woods. 



neither do Ave expect to thoroughly educate the new beginner 
in the trapper's art, though many useful hints are placed here- 
in before him as called to mind while penning these pages. 
In fact, one can scarcely tell you a tithe of it on paper. 
Books are written with trapping particularly in view, to 
which we would refer you should your taste for it be such as 
to hurry you to the haunts of the game when the frost comes. 

To succeed in trapping the many carnivorous animals that 
destroy so very many innocent lives to maintain their own, 
is simply to be interested therein. Then, ones ingenuity is 
applied, he studies their habits, notes where he is unsuccess- 
ful, remedies the fault or oversight, and outwits the game 
next time, and so on, continually bringing to bear his reason 
and intelligence, so superior to their instincts. 

But rather we wish to pen something of interest to all, and 
from our many excursions and campings for years back, we 
call to mind much that we fain would hope might read cheery 
to old and young. And for the boys and others who may be 
unable to visit the deep wildwoods with its ever charming 
attractions, we shall endeavor to picture and place before 
them much that will interest and make a leisure evening pass 
pleasantly at home, with a good portion of the dear old forest 
spread out before them. 

And now to the many, always charitable, among whom we 
hope we have many friends, and to those yet living with 
whom we have camped in long past years upon the ridges 
and beside the waters, some enfeebled, others far away, and 
the many home friends, and those jolly companions all in the 
heyday of their happy sporting time, to you all, we extend 
our kindest greetings. 



THE RAMBLE. 



WE usually prefer to get away to the woods about the 
first or second week in September. This gives us 
plenty of time before the shooting and trapping should 
commence, to straighten out the camps, provide sufficient 
hard wood for the whole campaign, repair and regulate our 
line of wooden and steel traps, and occasionally leaving along 
the line many a choice bite for the furry tribe to eat, therebv 
getting them interested and wonted to the path, but not 
baiting, or setting a trap, until the proper time arrives, when 
the fur has become prime, or very nearly so. 

In September and October, and often part of November 
the forest is in all its glory, and the days average very fine. 
November and December, with the frequent light falls of snow, 
bring their many advantages also, and by this time, the fine 
appetite, exercise and the pure bracing air of the forest has 
nicely fitted one to meet the coming colder days. For as you 
walk away over the snow, with springy step, upon the fresh 
tracks of the game, feeling so glorious in your renewed life 
from this free and happy roaming of the woods, you laugh 
at the cold, being animated by the best of spirits, full of life 



io The Aroostook Woods. 

and vigor, rejoicing in your ever-increasing strength and 
endurance. But now, 'tis in the mild September, and all is 
beautiful about the forest, lake and stream, while the dwellers 
in the woods are all most happy. The deer, the leaders of 
the droves, at this time are cruising on the summit of the 
ridges by themselves, proud, bold, and independent, while 
the mothers with the most of them two, occasionally three 
lambs each, are the happiest by themselves while she leads 
them to the cool springs in the warm days for their noonday 
drink, and at night to wade along the shores and nip the tops 
of the grasses growing above the waters, and at this season of 
the year particularly, finding everywhere an abundance of the 
finest food (and quantities to spare,) for themselves and 
their largest increase. 

And the Patridge, old mother P, now leaves the thrifty 
young yellow birch grove, with a grassy spot here and there 
all grown within a few years upon the old log landing, and 
leads her now very large babies down to the lake shore each 
day near noon-time, and as they stand all in a row upon the 
sandy shore beside the slightly rippled waters, moving their 
dainty little heads down and up quite irregularly, as they 
drink so cunningly, we count a dozen or more in place of the 
one pair in nesting time. But the old drummer, the father of 
the brood is not with them, as he has long since shirked all 
care or responsibility of the children, leaving dame P all the 
trouble as well as the great credit of raising and protecting 
the large family all by herself, whilst he has in the early 
infancy of the little ones sought out some cool and shady 
thicket to play the secluded hermit until beech-nut time. 

And right merry and happy are all the little wildwood 
birds, both old and young. Joyously they sing and call and 



The Ramble. ii 



answer one another as they are gaily flying back and forth, 
and alighting upon the branches amid the golden leaves. 

Well might we know 'twas in the mild Septc7nbei' — yet 
no mocking-bird sings his song in the Aroostook wilds. Ah ! 
we are wrong, for we do have one even here, the hardy 
Canada Jay, called also the moose bird, from the fact that in 
winter he is so often seen in company with and following the 
wanderings of our large game, the Moose and Caribou. He 
is much like his southern brother, the Mocking-bird, in size 
and plumage, and his whistling notes and varied tones remind 
one much of him as he sails gracefully from one tree to 
another among the jolly song-birds. This is his choice 
dwelling-place, here is his home with the monarch of the 
forest, the noble Aloose, and in the mild September they are 
sometimes seen coming out of the woods together. The 
monarch is occasionally seen for a few moments standing 
upon the hill in the settlers sunny clearing, his massive pro- 
portions showing to his very feet, between the earth and 
heavens with the clear sky for a background, his noble head 
thrown high in air, and his enormous w T ide spreading antlers 
laying far back over his shoulders, while his keen eye takes 
in the astonishing picture before him. 

And here too, is the home of that famous trotter the Cari- 
bou. These hardy fellows are here to-day in great numbers, 
and they roam the forests singly and alone, in pairs, and in 
droves at times. A beautiful sight it is to see a dozen or 
more of them in winter trotting by on the ice, which, if 
smooth and glassy, 'tis all the same to them, for their hard, 
sharp, wide spreading hoofs cut the ice like skates, and send 
the snowy spray far out behind them. 



12 The Aroostook Woods. 

And we must remember the pretty red Deer notwithstand- 
ing some sportsmen in our neighboring cities are frequently 
scolding and worrying for fear our Deer are being extermi- 
nated. We think that now they are pretty well protected, so 
much so that as yet they abound, and in the fall are often 
seen wandering out in the clearings, all through Aroostook, 
and in the shooting season their juicy steaks, though fit to set 
before a king, are equally appetizing to the sportsman. 

And that fine game-bird, the Partridge, often spoken of 
and yet worthy of more praise, never was scarce with us. 
In the early shooting season this elegant bird is found in 
goodly flocks in many a sunny opening. They always winter 
well, often sleeping in the light snows on coldest nights. 
Well fed at all times, never hungry, for their favorite food in 
winter, the yellow birch buds are everywhere growing for 
them, always fresh for their picking, each and every day. 



The Ramble. 13 



MOONLIGHT IN THE EVERGREENS. 

The voices in the wood are hushed, though zephers yet combine 
And sigh among the evergreens, and whisper in the pine; 
The snow is blown from off the trees where icy drops are seen 
Shining as the moon comes out like pearls upon the green. 

Though all is quiet in the glade, so white with crusted snow, 
High up in space before the moon the winds yet freely blow, 
While swiftly pass, clouds thin and white, and some of leaden hue 
By many a light, bright golden star in spots of azure blue. 

The silvery moon comes shining out almost as light as day, 
When leaden clouds chase off the light and hide it far away ; 
Then follows thin white gauzy clouds, and o'er her bright face sail 
As oft as breezes lift them off as light as bridal veil. 

Beside the trees all down the glade, the wavy shadows play, 

As now the moon bursts fully out and lightens up the way ; 

It beams upon the many drops now frozen on the trees 

Like diamonds, hanging from the buds and sparkling in the breeze. 

The last white cloud goes sailing by and disappears from view; 
The brightest stars come twinkling out from heaven's arch of blue; 
The heavenly orb lights up the glade, and brightens all the way, 
A little song-bird now awakes and sings " 'tis coming day/' 



OUR PRETTY EVERGREENS. 



OUR pretty evergreens, the fir tree in particular, we must 
often speak of in these pages, praise their beauty, 
boast about them and pronounce them, as they stand in the 
lovely sunshine just raising the tips of their branches to the 
gentle breeze, ever emitting a pleasant balmy fragrance on 
the air, to be glorious. So numerous everywhere ! and they 
lend a charm wherever seen. Growing by the roadside for 
long distances through the forest (which is usually more 
open behind them,) giving a nice shady drive in summer and 
shutting out the cold winds in winter. Changing the temper- 
ature much for the warmer on the roads, as they reflect so 
large a portion of the warmth which they receive from the 
sun shining upon them, down upon the traveller, until he 
turns toward them a grateful look of thanks, and a smiling 
recognition of their friendliness. When the roads have been 
repaired through the forest, we are often well pleased to see 
that the work has been superintended by one having the 
faculty of perception, and surely susceptible to an impression, 
from having left the beautiful evergreens intact, upon the 
north side of the road. Seeing their usefulness, beauty and 



Oi'K Pretty Evergreens. 15 

warmth for the traveller; understanding them to be a benefit, 

rather than any detriment to the road bed. The tasteful 
evergreens add a cheerful look to the settler's home, giving 
him a warm sunny bordering around his clearing and a hand- 
some view where edging the hillside. 

Through the old openings, mixed in with the young second 
growth of hard woods of many varieties, the evergreens 
always attract a pleased attention, as they add to the beauty, 
and here again usually fringing and shading the roadside. 
Thev are scattered over the (occasional) hilly and rocky 
old pasture, from the smallest to the largest, singlv and in 
groups, and in thick clusters on the rugged rocky knoll. The 
older and taller growing in the centre, upon the summit, 
looking down over them all, that are each, as they grow, 
carrying their pretty cone-like shape from their base to the 
very last little bud at the top. Among the old growth in the 
forest many grow very tall, compared to these, and with 
large bodies at times, and these fir trees, instead of sporting 
Mich a wealth of thick branches encircling them from base to 
tip, have long smooth butts or boles, many fit for prime clear 
lumber. Yet again, the pretty cone-shaped ones are plenty 
in the forest wherever having a warm sunny chance, often by 
themselves, all through the glade and glen, and in the many 
natural openings, with the scattering hard wood trees, and 
the small ones three, four and five feet high often afford a 
shelter for the game (the rabbit and the partridge mostly). 

The snow falling thick upon them, the low down branches 
droop and their ends rest upon the ground, followed by all 
the others from above as the snow keeps falling damp and 
heavy upon them, one drooping down beside another, other- 
lapping down covering all the space between them, the many 



1 6 The Aroostook Woods. 

thick fan-like boughs soon giving the game a tight, snowed 
over roof above them. And their snug shelter is very cosy 
inside, arched overhead and lined with evergreen fans, with a 
thick bed of leaves over the mossy ground. From these snug 
quarters "Bunny," the rabbit, hurriedly shies out and skips 
away lively as one approaches on snow-shoes, but only to 
describe a circle far around, as he returns to dig under again 
and complete his sleep, soon after our passing. And the 
partridge, after sitting in the sunshine high up in some thrifty 
yellow birch tree, and there filling his crop almost to bursting 
with the sweet buds, will often as the sun is about to say 
good-night, fly down and dive under to this friendly and 
well-known shelter. 

The evergreens have many friends and lovers, as they 
should, being so friendly to all. The birds seek the dark 
shade of their lower branches, often coming with drooping 
wings to escape the noon-day heat in summer ; while in win- 
ter they love the bright warmth of the south sunny branches 
The partridge if flushed in their vicinity, flies directly to 
them for safety, and his favorite roosting place is upon one of 
their branches, and if a windy night, very close to .the 
body of the tree upon its leeward side. The Canada Jay 
(the moose bird,) chooses them and the forks of their thick 
branches to hide away the overplus when the diligent scamp 
is stealing meat from the hunters. The Song-Sparrow's song 
is long and cheery when perched upon the topmost tip, as he 
calls, " Ah-te-te-te-teetity-te." The rabbit loves their dark 
shadows as he first skips out in the evening, and the deer if 
handy to them when receiving a shot, makes his first leaps in 
their direction for a cover, or to die under their shelter. 



WHILE ON THE WAY TO CAMP. 



A PAIR of Madamaska ponies, French all over, young, 
tough, and wiry, with lots of gimp, intelligent, brim- 
ful of fun, as wild as hawks at a yell, or as kind and steady 
as dogs the next moment when they hear your soothing tone 
of voice, had taken the bits between their teeth as they skipped 
over the hill and took the down grade just out of the village. 
" Shall I hold 'em up hard?" "Oh, no ! let them have their 
little run to the next rise. You couldn't get either off his 
feet with a lasso, and they will stop at your word. Just 
steady them, they are having lots of fun." The ponies are 
pulling a light but strong express wagon, well packed for a 
hunting and camping trip, over one of the old roads of 
Aroostook, and a sojourn at the camp in the forest beyond. 
The wide, roomy seat is well cushioned with robes and tanned 
skins of our own taking, upon which sits the captain ; beside 
him your humble servant is holding a briarwood pipe in one 
hand, an orono match in the other, waiting the slowdown of 
the ponies upon the next rise beyond. Everything that we 
think will be needed for the trip is on board. The spaniel 
sitting in front of us sniffs the air to right and left as we 



1 8 The Aroostook Woods. 

bowl along, and looking far ahead and np in our faces, is 
eager to hear the words "Go find them." Should he chance 
to see a partridge by the roadside or get the scent of game too 
strong to contain himself, he will fairly beg for his liberty. 
We occasionally let him run and hunt the roadside, while 
passing slowly through long pieces of virgin forest, owned 
and held by the land proprietors for the stumpage, of which 
we remark to the captain sitting beside us: "These forests 
must be a regular mine of wealth to such as you, for while 
you are sleeping even, they are constantly growing, to be cut 
over again and again." To which he answers: "'Tis not 
all gold that glitters ! forest fires and many obstacles arise, 
that tend to tone down such bright visions of golden dollars." 

We pick up a few birds as we are driving slowly ; the 
horses being used to our shooting merely toss their heads at 
the firing so near them. 

We cross the bridge beneath which the white waters are 
rushing and hastening on their way down, down, never wait- 
ing on the way, always burning to reach the sea, coming at 
the first from but a small spring and little trickling stream 
from which we have often drank, far away in the heart of the 
forest. As we rise the hill beyond the bridge we haul up for 
dinner at the hotel, which is the half-way house on our 
journey. Horses nicely rubbed down, stabled and eating 
their oats, we proceed to the dining-hall and endeavor to be 
as handy as the most industrious. After dinner we are not 
really cheered with the outlook"; it is now quietly raining, 
with black indications of plenty more to come. We shingle 
our express wagon with the rubber blankets, harness in the 
ponies, on with rubber coats, draw well up the boot around 
us, and dash away for the last farmhouse on the road, "rain 



While On The Way To Camp. 



l 9 



or shine." The showers are coming on as frequent as in the 
month of April, yet it runs off without enough wetting to do 
any damage or greatly annoy us. The spaniel retriever 
lying snugly covered, warm and dry, upon our feet, often 
expresses his gratitude by a comfortable yawn, as he is 
awakened now and then by an extra bounce of the springs. 
The ponies are just now getting a most thorough wetting, 
taking a bath that will clean them more thoroughly than 
human hands. They carry their heads as if not so highly 
elated as when starting in the morning, yet with a quiet resig- 
nation that suggests to us, they know it is all right, and not 
any imposition we would willingly have imposed upon them. 
At last as we are at our stopping-place for the night, the 
rain ceases entirely, the wind puffs around from another 
quarter, and the sun shows his bright face just before saying 
good-night, promising to be our company in the morning. 

As a new morning's light is gradually dispelling the gloom, 
it is soon beginning to show us a faint line of woodland in 
the east which seems growing away up to the skies ; and the 
first little silver ray from the sun that peeps in at our chamber 
window, finds us up and soon all ready for the hot steaming 
coffee which perhaps has awakened us. 

Leaving our supplies to be sent into camp late in the day 
over the old forest road, we shoulder our knapsacks, pick up 
our rifles, and followed by the now perfectly happy spaniel, 
step out briskly through the frosty air for the entrance to the 
wildwood, much preferring to walk the few miles on such a 
fine bracing morning. The sun, true to its promise, is just 
raising its cheerful face over the eastern hills, and the heavy 
frost first changes to water, then is soon drank up by its 
warm rays as it shines down upon us from over the tree tops. 



20 The Aroostook Woods. 

And now, as we enter the sweet-smelling woods, its 
fragrance is wafted to us with every little puff of the breeze. 
The resinous woods, pine, fir, spruce, and cedar, with the 
birches and their leaves, the sugar maples and many others, 
are all contributing ; even the roots of many plants growing 
in the warm loose ground beneath our tread are sending up a 
spicy odor, a reminder that they also are no small part of the 
forest's sweetness. It is a most glorious day, as onward we 
walk over this carpet of leaves that have been smitten by the 
frosts, deluged by the rain, thrashed and blown to the ground 
by the winds, and all of the most beautiful shades, lying 
beside the rocks and mosses, all blending well together. 

The shadows from the trees above fall upon it all, with the 
sunlight shining in, softening the edges and fairly mellowing 
all the openings. If it is possible, we think we are made 
better by such scenes, such surroundings as these, and our 
hard hearts softened. And as we, with our packs and rifles 
mount the hills and stop a moment upon the summit to catch 
the breeze upon our warm faces, and see so far away and 
upon each hand, such wide expanse of green and golden 
forest, we are so cheered and refreshed at the prospect — and 
the breeze, that we seem to fairly bound with every step. 

The old, half-sick feeling hanging over us so much at home 
has left us entirely ; we felt the change, and missed it 
altogether just as we entered the dense wood. Our appetite, 
poor or indifferent at home, so much so that we often make 
our dear wives (dear to us now because so far away) miser- 
able, to find that after striving hard to please us by cooking 
some favorite dish, we, instead of being kindly thankful for 
their goodness, appeared so indifferent, at times even elevat- 
ing our eyebrows and with a sniff, ask, "be the pickles all 



While On The Way To Camp. :i 

gone?" And why is it that here it is so different? Here the 

appetite always comes back to us again as it was in boy- 
hood's days, when the smell of the toast, or newly ground 
buckwheat griddle cakes for instance, for supper, would 
make us run, leap, and fairly yell at the very first tinkle of 
the old tea bell. 

From the time you enter the perfumed forest, until your 
return, you can never tire of this fragrance. You breathe in 
long draughts of a health-giving; aroma, which never nause- 
ates. You may feel a little thirsty and this is all right, 
coming to one of the many clear running brooks, one does 
not wait for the dipper, but kneeling down upon a piece of 
bark, or upon the large prominent root of the birch, often 
beside the water, that seems to be growing just there on pur- 
pose for us, drink long and hearty, three times as much of 
the sparkling nectar as we would of the lime rock mixture 
at home. And this does not make one feel at all uncomforta- 
ble at such a time ; we travel on and soon the perspiration 
starts out upon us which is truly beneficial and promises us 
much toward a fine appetite, a clear head, and is a general 
improvement commenced. 'Tis just what we want ; we are 
never afraid of this, for we cannot take cold here if half 
careful. This perspiration, with the air brimful of natures 
medicines from the trees and roots, the sharp appetite gained 
by exertion, this pure spring brook water, free from every- 
thing but goodness, of which you will keep drinking more 
and more, and often, as you are passing the streams, does so 
much for one. It washes out and cleanses the system from 
all the vile concoctions that we might have been swallowing 
in the form of medicines, or brace-ups, which always prove 
to be brace-downs. " We ought to know." 



22 The Aroostook Woods. 

You cannot stay at home boys, keeping late hours, working 
continually under cover in your offices and stores, excluding 
the sunlight for fear of fading your goods, become sick and 
run down, and receive any such benefit from the doctor or his 
medicines, as is to be found here. Here it is without money 
and without price, yet priceless ! And it is dealt out freely by 
a physician who knows well your case, whose beautiful 
advertisement is spread out so far and wide before us, over 
our heads and under our feet, so true, so convincing, that 
none will ever question it. 

If I thought I had tendencies toward consumption, I 
would begin this day to make a memoranda for the woods. 
For the deep, dense, and dark, the shoal, light and bright, the 
high and low, the level and rolling, the hill and valley of the 
wild, wild, wood. With its sunny hills and shady thickets, 
its lovely lakes and streams, and numberless beauties and 
interests, that no pen ever did, will, or can describe. And 
why must they strive to cut it all down? Oh, woodsmen! 
spare a few trees, here and there, for the seed to blow about 
in the fall time. " Camp Ahoy ! " 



A PROFITABLE OUTIiNG. 



YEARS past, a young man was told by his physician that 
he was consumptive and advised him to seek for a cure 
among the balmy trees in the forest. 

Writing for a trusty Indian he had often before hunted 
with, the Indian in due time came, finding the white man in 
his bed. Consulting together they formed their plans. The 
Indian got everything all ready in a day or two, and the 
young man being somewhat improved, the}' concluded to 
start for the woods. 

The mother feeling almost as if she was looking upon her 
boy for the last time, fearing he might never return to her 
again in life, bid him good-bye with a sad heart. Arriving 
at the end of their railroad journey at the foot of the lakes, 
the Indian took him in his strong arms and carried him the 
short distance to his canoe upon the lake shore. Now placing 
him in the centre of the birch bark canoe, with many wraps 
and a pillow for his comfort and ease, he packed the remain- 
ing space with all they could carry for comfort and use. 
Taking his paddle and seating himself in the stern upon the 
crossbar, the Indian now paddled him away up the lake,' of 



2 4 



The Aroostook Woods. 



which there were several to pass over before reaching their 
well-known camping ground at the head of a still water, and 
at the foot of the rips and falls, lying above. 

I should be pleased to give a further account of their move- 
ments during their long stay, but was not well informed of 
the particulars. They undoubtedly found plenty of fish and 
game, for at the time, and even to this day, there are plenty 
of .salmon-trout in the stream near where they were camping, 
and numerous deer, with small game, in the forest beside it. 
The Indian a good hunter and superior canoeman, was well- 
known to be trusty and faithful. Very late in the fall just 
before the lakes froze over, they returned, and at this time 
the white man remarked he could easily have carried the 
Indian had it been necessary. His consumption had ^ evapo- 
rated." 

I believe, that from the moment of starting from the lake 
shore, the Indian's patient began to improve. Out of the 
house and close rooms, under the clear blue sky, on the bright 
waters, everything is so changed. At the first dip of the 
paddle, as the birch bark canoe moved out upon the lake and 
he heard the merry slap of the waters against the sides, the 
Indian saw his eye brighten, and a better glow upon his 
cheek. The easy, soothing motion of the canoe, like a 
cradle as she danced over the waves, settling down so easily 
from a large one, rising again like a wild duck high upon the 
summit of the next, just as it breaks, sending its white spray 
in the air, but not to wet the patient, for the expert canoeman 
sees every large comber coming and with an extra pull with 
his paddle, sends her away by, or balances right upon the 
crest, when she settles down with it like a gull, to gaily rise 
again as before. 



A Profitable ( )uting. z 



'■> 



I believe that the change, he lying wrapped warm in an 
abundance of wraps and clothing, the blue sky over his head, 
the sunshine warm and bright upon him, breathing in the 
pure bracing air that fanned his wasted, but even now, warm, 
moist cheek, began to cheer and cure him. And the faithful 
Indian had much to do with this change. Sitting in the stern 
looking down upon him smilingly, as he plied his paddle, and 
with strong assurance telling him like this, "You no be sick 
any much, when we get little while in camp. Only very 
littleum time fore you go shootum deer once more, all lone." 
Reminding him of the speckled beauties at the mouth of the 
brook, just below the camp-ground, and of the three, four, 
and even five pound salmon-trout at the very door of the tent 
at the foot of the falls, and in the rips. Describing the many 
good dishes he should cook for him, all furnished from forest 
and stream. Those juicy steaks of venison, the salmon-trout 
broiled upon the coals, and roasted and smothered beneath 
them, retaining all its juices and flavor, the delicate soups 
from the venison, and the grouse, all about them, and, as he 
grows a little stronger, the more hearty smothers of venison, 
cooked long and slowly, tightly covered meanwhile, in the 
bake- kettle. 

The changing scenes in this forest life ; the faithfulness and 
watchful care of his staunch Indian friend ; his own love for 
this kind of life, would bring the strongest hopes to him and 
banish all despondency. 

The Indian's knowledge of, and aptness in preparing the 
many plants and roots for his drinks, his fragrant bough bed, 
with a warm fire at his feet day and night, so much to inter- 
est and cheer him through the day, his quiet, peaceful sleep 
from dark until the early morning's light, why should he not 



26 The Aroostook Woods. 

continue to live on and tarry with us? And he did, 
through frequently journeying again and again to the depths 
of the health-giving wildwood, enjoying its many, many 
pleasing interests, and advantages, with the atmosphere fairly 
loaded with ozone, the consumptive's food. 



BOYS, YOU NEED NOT BE LOST. 



BOYS of little experience in travelling through the forest 
often say, like this : " I wish I could tramp the woods 
wherever I wish without getting astray." ' Now I think most 
any boy can soon learn to keep his course and be able to 
determine about where he is, if he will remember always to 
keep in mind the direction in which he is travelling. In the 
first place, you know that the sun rises in the east and sets in 
the west. "We always know that." Exactly, but keep it 
in mind just the same. Every hour from its rising until its 
setting you can locate it, and knowing where the sun is. and 
remembering how you have been travelling, you will know 
where you are yourself. 

In the middle of the forenoon the sun is in the south-east 
(or near enough to answer your purpose) ; at noon in the 
south; middle of the afternoon, south-west; and when the 
sun shines brightly out, it is quite easy to keep in mind the 
course. Say for instance, you have travelled about two miles 
south, then two west ; you are south-west of your starting 
point; a north-east course will take you back. Perhaps after 
walking north-east awhile to get back, you find swamp or 



2S The Aroostook Woods. 

hard travelling ; a course due east hits your outward track, 
and so it is all around the points of the compass. Getting lost 
comes mostly from getting excited about it. Always have 
your compass where it cannot be lost. After some practice 
and much observation you can determine almost at a glance, as 
the Indian does, which is north and south. (I refer to 
this in other pages). You learn to tell by the trees and their 
branches, the rocks and mosses. 

You can find where the sun is by the point of your knife- 
blade, held perpendicular upon your thumb nail. Twirl it 
slowly around and it is a dark day indeed when it will not east 
a slight shadow from the sun upon your nail. Then by 
consulting your watch you find vou are all right, after coollv 
thinking it all over. The best of woodsmen needs his com- 
pass on a dark da v. Hardly any one, but an Indian, gets 
along entirely without it. Even he has strayed before now, 
according to an old story, but would not admit it. When the 
white man met him and asked him if he were lost, he straight- 
ened up and answered, " Oh no ! Indian no lost, wigwam he 
lost sure." 

Often getting astray, I have found myself going exactly 
opposite to my right course. This I could not believe until 
referrring to the compass ; even then doubting if it could be 
correct or was working right. But remember, if a fairly good 
one, it is always right, and we must always go by its pointing 
even though it seems all wrong according to our judgment. 
Again we would say, keep your reckoning and you need not 
be far astray. You are not often far away from the woods- 
man's axe and old lumber roads, though they may be well 
grown up again, you can yet trace them. You come to some 
small brook ; this runs to a larger, usually, then to river or 



Boys, You Need Not Bi<: Afraid. 29 

^ __ » 

lake. On the okl lumber operations, notice this, that very 
few logs are ever hauled up hill. See the scarf upon the 
stump, li the tree fell that way," you say. Exactly, and 
there are some remains of the top to prove it. Now they 
twitched it out over this short branch road, or path like, to 
the main road ; then it was loaded on the sled and went down 
the road to landing on lake or river, perhaps right by the 
camp door. From here you can find their tote, or supply 
road, which you will recognize after following a little way. 
It is quite different from the logging road which must be 
wide, well cleaned out, free from stumps, usually straight, 
pretty level or down grade, in order to haul such large loads 
of logs as they always do. 

The supply road is narrow, perhaps running up and down 
hills and over humpy cradle knowls, in many places crooks 
and quick turns. Often in its turns a tree is left that should 
have been cut out, now showing many a rub from the whip- 
pletrees in passing. Nearly always grown up in many places 
to grass and clover, with a scattering bunch of oats, all of 
which take root and grow from scattering seeds, falling from 
loads of provender hauled to the camp. This leads you 
eventually to the main travelled highway. 



SHOULD THE HUNTER GET LOST? 



WHAT proud monarch is happier than the hunter, with 
his sure rifle, tramping his familiar hunting grounds 
where he knows every hill, lake and stream, his rifle always 
carried at easy rest beneath his arm, as he quietly threads his 
way through, to him, the well-known woods by the haunts of 
the game. It is no place for his rifle resting over his 
shoulder, for that and two arms in the air makes three, as he 
jerks it down for a shot, and the deer jumps quickly away, as 
he sees these motions. His light hunting axe hung with 
strap and case over his shoulder, dry matches in a water-tight 
safe or glass vial in pocket. In his knapsack, which need 
not be heavily loaded, a firm blanket, always a small quan- 
tity of salt and pepper, and perhaps a piece of dried venison, 
a small piece of pork, some pilot bread, or home-made, a 
little tea and sugar, and a pint dipper, but this not to be 
carried where it will glisten in the sun. A good servicable 
pocket knife with the proper formed blade for skinning. Of 
course he can carry a big bowie, but every useless extra, adds 
its weight. Always his sure working compass, and one that 
opens and shuts easily, for at times he must look at it often, 



Should The Hunter Get Lost. 31 

when the sun is obscured, must even hold it in his hand when 
the snow is falling in flakes the size of a ten cent piece, or he 
may not keep his course. 

Now boys, catch a quick sight as I fly out of tangle number 
one, through a little clearer space, and I will try and tell you 
how one could do if he should miss his way in the woods, and 
be too late to find a shelter for the night. Suppose the 
hunter is lost. No, not lost, for a fairly good woodsman 
never gets entirely lost with his compass by him. We will 
suppose he is strayed and cannot make his way to the home 
camp, or point of destination, by the remaining daylight. 
Night is coming and he must camp. Now this is not a diffi- 
cult job at all for a well, healthy fellow, rather a bit of inter- 
est to be added to his trampings ; and well and healthy he 
should be and surely is, if he has been in the forest a few 
days, for here we regain health and jolly spirits very quickly, 
cannot help doing so ; in fact, we hardly ever take a cold 
while in the woods. 

Finding he has but little time, he should not press on with 
uncertainty before him ; and he need not get the least excited, 
for he is all right. How is the wind? North-west and a 
little colder than pleasant. He goes back a piece to the brook 
he just crossed, selects the south side of a small rocky bluff, 
backed by a thicket of evergreens and small spruce, and 
chooses this for a camping chance. There is plenty of hard 
wood growing near, mixed with spruce and fir, and handy by, 
lies an old down pine, resting upon the bed pieces. It is dry 
and pitchy from years of sunshine, large slabs of thick bark 
that have fallen off it, lying beneath. It was cut and con- 
demned for some slight fault by some hardy lumberman, long, 
long ago, who now lies mouldering in his grave. Seeing 




OS 

w 

H 

X 
h 

O 

H-J 



Should The Hunter Get Lost. 33 

this, he stands in reverie, but he should not, as he wants every 
moment of the remaining light to prepare for his camping. 

A partridge over his head now begins to scold him for 
intruding upon her feeding ground, when he quickly raises 
his rifle, steadying the barrel against a tree (our old critic 
could have done it off-hand) ; the leaden messenger takes off 
his head, which falls with, and close beside the quivering 
bird upon the ground. In two moments this is skinned, 
dressed, cleansed in the brook and hanging upon a limb. At 
the foot of the large yellow birch tree upon which the grouse 
was feeding, large bare prominent roots reach out from the 
birch to right and left, forming a natural fire place, the tree 
conducting upwards most of the smoke, serving as a very nice 
chimney. Seeing this he cuts a small beech, gets two pieces 
from it for stakes, drives them close beside and outside of the 
two roots, giving him a good resting place for his fore-sticks. 

He now cuts wood for the fire, maple and birch, with a few 
good sized sticks to burn till morning ; chips off all loose bark 
from his large birch chimney high as he can reach with his 
axe, for kindlings, and to prevent their burning and dropping 
down upon him. He has now a stock of wood ; should he 
need more he must get it by firelight or torch. But as yet he 
needs no fire, his coat is off hanging upon a branch, the 
perspiration is out upon his brow ; he stops a moment and 
turns his face to catch a little of the cool north-wester, which 
now and again puffs over the higher land, and he smiles to 
think it's all right and he is soon to have a good chance for 
the night. A spruce six or eight inches at the bottom is cut 
down, the thick growth of branches are trimmed off and 
thrown in a heap. Thinking more boughs would be nice, 
another spruce is sacrificed and its branches added. Next he 



34 The Aroostook Woods. 

cuts from the spruce number one, it being the larger, his fore- 
sticks and back logs. From spruce number two, he cuts 
about fourteen feet from off the large end, raises the smaller 
end to rest securely against his chimney, six or seven feet 
high from and over his fire place, the large end resting upon 
the ground to windward, near the rocky bluff. This is ridge 
pole, rafters and frame. 

Now if any snow is upon the ground he cleans it out, using 
his snow-shoe for a shovel, handled by the toe strap and the 
trail end. If deep and crusty he may tramp it down level 
and solid with the snow-shoes upon his feet. If bark is 
handy, he lays in a dry flooring and covers it with the small 
boughs of fir, always to be found. He will now shingle his 
roof by taking the largest spruce limbs at the first. He com- 
mences a few feet from his fire place and hangs them on each 
side of his ridge pole, the thick, close ends resting upon the 
ground, so enclosing his oven shaped camp. Then the 
smaller shingled on over these, and had he the time, could 
add enough in this manner to shed the rain. Consulting his 
watch he finds it is just fifty-nine minutes since he stood 
quietly thinking beside the old pine log. It is getting near 
dark. After his supper he will be up and about, picking up 
handy by-wood, occasionally eyeing his temporary home with 
much satisfaction. He puts on his coat for a moment, now 
his hurry is over, lights his fire, and soon the large birch tree 
adds its share of heat, which, if a cold night, is an advantage, 
as it throws the heat directly in his camp. Placing a seat by 
the fire, he opens his knapsack, lays aside his blanket (w r hich 
was packed next his shoulders) spreads his luncheon out upon 
his snow-shoes or a piece of bark, fills his dipper from the 
brook, adds a little tea and places it upon the coals to steep, 



Should The Hunter Get Lost. 35 

cuts a suitable stick with a crotch or fork at the end, upon 
which he impales his grouse, salted and peppered, with a piece 
of pork hanging over it, then pushes the end of this stick 
obliquely into the ground, just right for his bird to come over 
the coals, and supports it by another forked stick in its centre. 
This soon fills the air with a most appetizing flavor. His tea 
coming to a boil, is set back a little. Soon his broiled par- 
tridge is being cooked and browned to a turn. His appetite 
by this time is fine, and though in the deep forest alone, he 
has had no chance or thought of being lonely, and makes a 
hearty supper ; and then, as some would, for it adds to the 
cheeriness, he lights his pipe and with a real contented laugh, 
says: "who's lost?" The large gray owl sitting upon a 
dead branch just across the brook, startles him by immediate- 
ly answering : u Whoo ! ho-ho-o-o-o." 

After a good smoke and a look around his cosy camp, he 
replenishes his fire, adding the large sticks, packs up the 
remains of his repast, takes his snow-shoes and a bunch of 
boughs for a pillow, wraps snug in his blanket, and is soon 
sleeping warm and comfortable. He has no wild animals to 
fear in the Aroostook wilds ; they may tell their wild stories 
of being chased and only escaping by some lucky chance, but 
it somehow seems a mistake we think, the animals all run 
much too fast the other way. 

If in the night it snows, then warmer grows his camp. 
Should it rain and put out his fire during his sleep and he has 
provided nothing for a torch, he takes a small piece of pork 
an inch or so square and as long as his finger, makes a hole 
through the skin with the point of his knife to receive a cane- 
like stick sharpened at each end, for a handle, then splits the 
fat meat across the centre, half way down, again across the 



36 The Aroostook Woods. 

other way the same, giving him a candle with four wicks. 
This he succeeds in lighting with match number three or 
four, and proceeds to the dry pine, or a leaning cedar, from 
the under side of which he gets dry kindlings and will soon 
be warm again. If a jolly smoker, he again lights his pipe, 
which under such circumstances seems most companionable, 
and then with his fire brightly blazing, cheers him up once 
more. Next morning, most likely, he has the bright sun- 
shine, if not, his trusty compass will lead him to camp and a 
good breakfast. 



OUR RED SQUIRRELS. 



WHERE is the boy that does not love the jolly little red 
squirrel? He is not to be found, for his frisky play- 
fulness brings the smile to every face. Full of life, fun and 
frolic, they cheer us with their happy chatter from sun up in 
the morning, until it leaves them at evening, in the darkening 
shadows, when they quickly run away to their warm nests, to 
sleep until the new day brings them joyously out again. He 
is a hardy little fellow, always in good condition, and in the 
very best of spirits, sleek and glossy, as he sits upon a stump 
with his pretty tail curled over his back, holding his spruce 
cone in his little hands while he nibbles off the outside, which 
he throws away with quick jerks of his head, to the right and 
left, showing intense satisfaction, as he eats the inner part he 
loves. 

Below, beside the stump, you may see a small round hole 
in the snow, which he is always careful not to have large 
enough for an enemy, but just the size for his own small body 
to pass up and down, from which he brings out his cones, to 
eat them in the warm sunshine. He has a goodly store, 
nicely housed, laid in during the fall, gathered at the proper 



38 The Aroostook Woods. 



time from the always abundant harvest. The ground never 
freezes to trouble him in the deep wood beneath the snows, 
and in the early fall he digs down far enough to be below the 
cold and all danger of frost ; then under the stump which is 
his roof he makes his nest, lining it with the finest silver gray 
birch bark, while all around him in little avenues is stored his 
winter supply of cones, hazel and beech nuts, maple seeds, 
etc. He is such a busy worker all through the pleasant fall 
weather that no doubt he hides away more than he can pos- 
sibly eat during the cold months, yet he is out often, just the 
same, getting his dinner from the tops of the spruces, in the 
sunny days. During the coldest dark weather, you hardly see 
him out of his warm nest, but as soon as the sun shines warm 
again he is quickly in sight, his cheeks distended with beech 
nuts, or a cone between his teeth, which he likes to eat in the 
sunshine. The forests are full of them, wherever you go, 
and every few steps you take when passing over the knolls, 
through the thick spruces, you are greeted anew, and again, 
as they see you coming, with half angry barks, and their 
happy laughing chatter as they dart away to a hiding-place 
to re-appear in a half moment after you have passed, sending 
after you their loudest jolly jingling chatter. Sitting with the 
captain one day during the last of the Indian summer watching 
a favorite crossing for the deer, we were most sure we heard 
a deer or caribou walking toward us, but it proved to be this 
merry little fellow, upon the top of a spruce tree, gathering 
his supply of cones for winter use. He was jumping from 
one branch to another, biting off the nearly ripe cones, and 
getting one between his teeth, he invariably tossed it over his 
head far out beyond the larger limbs, and the cones falling in 
quick succession upon the leaves, easily deceived us. We 



Our Red Squirrels. 39 

watched his busy motions with much interest until a cloud 
passed over the sun, and a few drops of rain came pattering 
down upon the leaves, when he quickly scampered down, and 
seizing a large cone, ran lively for his dry nest. He is an 
ardent lover of the sunshine, and often when it leaves him in 
the cold shadows, he will dart away for his nest, or hug 
closer to the body of his tree, as he sits on a limb on the lee- 
ward side, without making a sound, waiting the re-appearance 
of the sun when he immediately bursts forth anew, chattering 
loud and long in his happiness. 



THE AROOSTOOK SABLE. 



THIS beautiful furred little villian, when seen at his best 
in mid-winter, when his fur is prime, long, dark and 
rich, when he is skipping about over the pure white crusted 
snow, in and out among the evergreens, is a beauty indeed. 
No one can see, but to admire him, for his elegant appearance, 
great activity and swift, easy motions. The length of his 
bounds when leaping away, at being quickly surprised, are 
astonishing for such a small fellow, and his movements are as 
light and easy as those of a bird. Yet he is a veritable rascal, 
this same beautiful scamp, and as cruel and bloodthirstv as 
any that range the forest. His favorite food in summer is the 
young birds and rabbits, of which he will a 7 *vays get a large 
share, and he plays sad havoc with the young partridges. In 
winter the squirrels and full grown rabbits make him many a 
supper. Mice are to be had at any time, but he pays but 
little attention to them unless very hungry, leaving them 
mostly for foxy and the weazels. He is trapped in winter 
and spring for his fine fur, and is easily enticed to the steel 
trap, or wooden dead fall, baited with squirrel or partridge 
meat, which he scents a long way, and scarce ever goes by 



The Aroostook Sable. 



4 1 



without giving it a bite. Running his head in at the entrance 
of the dead fall prepared for him, he reaches far back and 
seizes the bait always wishing to run away with it before 
eating. But finding it securely tied with a strip of the inner 
bark of cedar to the end of the spindle, he braces his stout 
little legs under him, takes a fresh grip of the meat, and pulls 
this time to get it, when down comes the fall piece across 
his neck or shoulders, which is loaded with sufficient logs 
to hold him, and his breath lasts him but a moment. Here 
the hunter finds him when next visiting his traps, as scarcely 
ever does any animal eat the sable. We have sometimes felt 
a little "sorry on it," (as the Indian says) for the killing of 
some animals, particularly a female deer, but have never 
wasted much sympathy upon the sable, knowing him to be 
most pitilessly cruel himself, to prove wdiich, we will tell 
you something of him from observation. 

A companion and myself w r ere going over our traps one 
drizzly morning in winter, after a changeable day and night 
of raining and freezing, giving us on this morning a good 
crust upon the deep snow for snow-shoeing. We remember 
it was the first for the season, and although the heavy mist 
was yet falling and dripping from the trees, we felt that we 
must get out in the roads and try the crust, for a slight rain 
or snow storm hardly ever kept us in camp in those days. 
Only pitiless old Boreas, with his sharp bitings, could drive 
us from the ridges. We had just passed over a small rise of 
land and were walking by the edge of a swamp, when my 
friend, who seldom forgets his meerschaum, but sometimes 
forgets he carries a gun, sings out : u Oh ! Oh ! look at him, 
look at him !" A rabbit, which here in Aroostook are so 
large that they might almost be called hare, came bounding 



42 The Aroostook Woods. 



toward us, much as if for protection, then circled away again, 
and on, beside the swamp. He was the sorriest looking 
specimen of his kind we ever saw, which was owing to his 
long race in the drizzle, as wet as if he had been soaked for 
days, and so thin that he looked the ghost of one, when dry. 
He was taking his best leaps for his life, for close behind 
him came little "Mr. Sable," taking easy, graceful bounds, 
looking as dry and smooth as if just out of his nest, taking 
the race as cool as if he already had him killed, which he 
knew he surely would have, shortly. As the rabbit ran to us 
and shied away again, the sable gained on him by keeping 
straight on, without shortening his leaps as he turned his eye 
on us, and both were soon out of sight. As they both passed 
within easy shooting distance, I remarked, "Why didn't you 
shoot him ? " " Shoot what ? " " Why, the sable of course ? " 
"Gracious! I didn't know I had the gun. Oh, wasn't that 
sable a beauty ! " We have all been as interested at some 
time in our lives, and did not think to shoot in time. And 
then a chance like this but seldom offers, as this kind of rabbit 
hounding by the sable is mostly during moonlight nights and 
very early in the mornings. 

You may be sure he had poor bunny nearly tired out, and 
doubtless as soon as they reached thick growth and the 
rabbit tried a side dodge, he was out-generaled and 
pounced upon by a few quicker long leaps, when the timid 
victim, with a few pitiful cries would yield up his life at once, 
as they do not show the least fight with this enemy. Like 
the greyhound, he, the sable, runs on sight, keeping handy 
to his prey, but if he misses seeing it for a moment, his nose 
is to the ground, like a foxhound, when he quickly finds the 
track and is again soon in sight, seeming in no great hurry to 



The Aroostook Sable. 43 

end the chase, but rather enjoying it, and bunny's wild frantic 
bouncing, toward the last, as the distance grows less between 
them, and the rabbit is near exhausted. 

Our worthy commodore "of the birch-bark squadron," 
once witnessed a comical scene, while a sable was chasing a 
rabbit, when a partridge saved a rabbit's life. He was out 
early one morning, after a light fall of snow, still hunting for 
a deer. When but a little way from camp as he stood leaning 
beside a tree watching the woodland o'er for a moment, a 
rabbit came jumping by him, and a sable close behind. 
Neither noticed the commodore as they passed him, and near 
at hand, as the rabbit was jumping between some low fir 
bushes which were half snowed under, he was struck under- 
neath by a fluttering partridge, which he had frightened out 
of his snow bed. The partridge (thinking no doubt but 
that reynard was after him again,) was kicked back by the 
rabbit, as the rabbit tumbled over in the snow with a piteous 
cry, sure that the sable had him at last ; but finding his legs, 
he quickly disappeared, jumping high and dodging wide, as 
the frightened partridge whirred past him. The astonished 
sable disgusted at this new phase of the hunt, stopped sudden- 
ly, then turned on his back track, and was just leaping out of 
sight as the commodore turned to look for him. 

Sleeping rather late one quiet morning in camp, we were 
awakened by plaintive cries, quite loud at first, but soon sub- 
siding and ending. This we knew to be poor bunny, and 
that he was being killed by the fisher, fox, or sable. Getting 
up quietly, we took down the shotgun, and slipped into it a 
cartridge of buckshot, hoping the murderer might prove t>> 
be the indian devil (little panther, or cougar,) said to be 
occasionally on this range at this season, and crept out to the 



44 The Aroostook Woods. 

corner of the camp where we knew by the sounds the murder 
was being committed. Moving carefully we were not heard. 
About twenty yards away, at the corner of the old hovel, among 
a patch of elder bushes, a pretty young sable was sucking the 
blood from the throat of a rabbit. We stood very still, hid- 
den, watching the scene. Having drank of his blood until 
his sides puffed out, he seized him by the neck and was 
pulling him away to where he would be hidden, when he 
would come again at night and make a full supper of him. 
But the elder stems grew too thick for him to do this, just in 
that direction, for as he backed and jerked the rabbit to him, 
it brought up against the shoulders between the stout elders 
that grew just right to trouble him. It was amusing to see 
his angry motions ; he would seize him by the throat, spring 
backward and tumble over, then up and try it again, but 
Bunny would not come. During this time, we held the gun 
in readiness, meaning to be his judge, jury, and executioner, 
but he was so smart and prettv, with a bright orange spot 
under his throat, that gradually, we weakened, and finally 
concluded he should live (" to get pi'ime.'" ') 

About this time as he was giving angry jerks to right and 
left, it was so comical to see him brace and try, that we had 
to laugh, when quick as lightning, his eye was on us, and in 
an instant, he bounded away. We secured the rabbit, which 
was a nice fat one. A bite upon the shoulder showed where 
he had first caught on to him, and the mark under his throat 
from which he had sucked his blood, were the only wounds. 
The rabbit was nice for food, and had been well bled in the 
proper place, so thanking him for providing a dinner for us, 
we hung it in the cool corner of the camp porch with a bunch 
of partridges. 



The Aroostook Sable. 4c; 

Next morning at daybreak, we were again awakened by a 
slight noise, this time in the porch, and creeping to the 
window, we looked out and saw the same little cut-throat 
with the bright orange mark, making sad havoc with our birds. 
He had been there sometime, as he had the rabbit and part- 
ridges down upon the ground and was having lots of fun, up 
to his back in game and feathers. He ignored his own catch 
and had sadly torn our birds. Again we reached down the 
shot-gun, this time meaning death to the destroyer. Loading 
with duck-shot, we softly opened the door, when he instantly 
took the hint and was making long leaps for a leaning birch. 
As he reached the tree, the duck-shot overtook him, killing him 
instantly. A day or two after, upon the old hovel, and near- 
ly over the same spot where he committed the murder, he was 
hung beside his victim, in front of a back ground of newly 
peeled white birch-bark, occupying the most prominent place 
over a bunch of partridges, with a saddle of venison and a hand- 
some string of trout beneath, when all were photographed by 
the Doctor. 




THE OLD AROOSTCOK RO.AD. 



THE AROOSTOOK PARTRIDGE. 



W 



HERE is the sportsman that fails to enthuse over this 
magnificient game-bird? To begin with he is as 
handsome as a bird can be. "How so! with no bright 
plumage?" " 'Tis even so! without the bright plumage." 
We will leave the bright and gaudy, for the birds we do not 
eat, for we want it not upon our superb drummer partridge. 
And he is so numerous all over our Aroostook wilds, that you 
may find him almost anywhere you roam. And if, when on 
a tramp through our forests, wishing for a delicious broil, you 
should hardly be disappointed, for, from the first farm, or 
clearing, to the limit of your travel, he is ever to be seen. 
Often in the old logging roads ; even in the dense swamps, at 
the foot of the ridges, on the top of them, over the cant of 
the same, getting a drink from his favorite brook perhaps, 
where you may find him always, in the driest weather, and 
during a drought he scarcely leaves the cool shaded brookside 
he loves so well. Handy to the sunny ridges, handy to the 
brook, and the thick evergreen swamp wherein he loves to 
roost. At a certain time in the fall, the flock hardly leaves the 
swamps, finding at this season of the year the food they like 



4S The Aroostook Woods. 

in abundance. But heavy frosts coming, such food becomes 
withered, sour and unpalatable, and again they show them- 
selves across the brook upon the ridge. Birch buds constitute 
their principal food in winter, and they seem to be the proper 
thing, as we scarce hear of the birds being in a poor condi- 
tion. On the south side of the ridge, usually handy to the 
brook, and likely on the knoll, instinct teaching her the spot 
is dry, is where she builds her nest. Often in a sly chance, 
and occasionally, but not very often, are they discovered. 

We remember seeing one with a tight roof. The bark peel- 
ers had left a sheet of bark behind them, one end lay upon 
the log it came from, the other resting upon the ground. 
This was so cosy, such a complete shelter, that lady P took 
the chance. She had lined it with soft, wild grasses at the 
first and would add many of her abundant feathers towards 
the last. If nothing prevented, she would have a nest brimful 
of pretty white eggs, that are beautiful to look in upon. 
How she hates to have you find the nest, and more especially 
if her little chicks are just hatched out. She is brave for a 
fisdit, but first uses stratesrv to lead you off. Her feathers 
are ruffled forward, and with head down, tail spread out, 
wings dragging, she plays lame or wounded, as if saving 
Come now ! Come on, you can easily catch me ! which is 
only to entice you from her nest ; and if not succeeding in 
drawing you away from her brood, grows furiously wild, if 
an old one, that has had the care of several broods of babies ; 
every feather is raised in anger against you ; full of courage 
now, and at the risk of her life she flies directly at you, as if 
she would like to peck out your eves, trying hard to take 
your attention wholly from her brood. 

These pretty little velvety baby birds, often seen when no 



The Aroostook Partridge. 49 

larger than sparrows, so smart and quick, if only a few hours 
old, even with a portion of the shell yet sticking to the backs 
of two or three, are gone the moment you see them. The 
mother knowing she has given them time to hide away, makes 
a final dart at your face ; you close your eyes as you make a 
slap at her for her impudence, but she is gone. She is sail- 
ing off as if to fly far away, but watch her ! she settles 
down a little among the trees and bushes, sw r eeps around back, 
flving low down, and lights upon the ground behind the 
bushes and but a little piece from her hidden chicks, to wait 
and watch you between the leaves. You now move away as 
if hiding from her and where you can view the ground. You 
are quiet, and presently you see a leaf tip up, a little raised 
head is seen peeping out from under ; that is one of the cun- 
ning chicks ; it thinks itself hidden if only its head is under 
a leaf though the body is all exposed. How still it keeps ; 
not a movement except raising its head and listening. Look- 
ing keenly you see several heads sticking up, not one moving, 
but all listening, their bright eyes all seem turned in one and 
the right direction. In a moment or two, the mother as she 
hears nothing of you, commences calling softly, "pletes" — 
"pletes" — "pletes," when immediately they are all running 
straight to the sound, and are soon huddled beneath the moth- 
er's wings. 

At this time, when the little ones can scarcely fly, they get 
over the ground surprisingly quick, their small apology fpr 
wings aiding their legs, and their pursuers must be keen 
sighted to see where they hide. They have many an enemy 
as they are a very choice bite. The weazel, mink, sable, 
fisher, owl, the hawk, and others have an eye on them, yet 
the mother is constantly on the watch, protecting them if 



50 The Aroostook Woods. 

possible, though she lose her life. At the first sight of an 
intruder, if knowing her family is discovered, she flies direct- 
ly at the enemy, at the same time giving the chicks warning 
to hide themselves. 

Feeding much upon yellow birch buds, after heavy frosts 
come, and usually they are budding in pairs, as they have now 
mated, yet we sometimes see a dozen or more feeding upon 
the same tree, and think it a pretty sight. The trees are 
usually tall and at this time leafless. The buds grow thrifty 
and thick upon the upper and outer branches and twigs. 
The birds sitting distributed all about the tree, quite little 
distances from each other, the small branches gently swaying 
and rocking with their weight, the birds so plainly outlined, 
all busy as bees, until their crops are nearly full, taking no 
notice of you if you are quiet, give us, all free, one of the 
many interesting pictures (and a live one) to be seen in the 
snowy woods in winter. But after the first heavy frosts come 
and the beech nuts are ripe, they are happy indeed. By this 
time they have made their love engagements with each other 
in their own pretty way. The oldest drummer has selected 
the prettiest and youngest pullet he can find, and now leads 
her to the south side of the high sunny ridge where he 
knows (and tells her truly, always,) the sweetest beech 
nuts grow. The birds get in their best condition upon this 
food, and, if it were possible, the flavor of the broil is 
improved. 

We left a dozen or fifteen pretty little chicks behind, that 
we wish to speak of again, and should like to say how nature 
had colored, or painted them, but fail to do them justice 
when we say, they were a light golden and orange brown, 
beautifully mottled, and richly shaded. But now they are 



The Aroostook Partridge. =;i 

full as large as the mother bird, and we will say that it is 
the first of winter, getting along toward evening. The 
ground is frozen and covered with snow. Their food in the 
swamps is frozen and spoiled ; the young clover along the 
old woods road, with the winterberry, snowberry and bunch- 
berry, are all covered with snow and the old lady must find 
them other food. 

This she knows well how to do, as she is just now leading 
them up from the brook and swamp, and across the old wood 
road to a thrifty yellow birch upon the side of the ridge, fair- 
ly loaded with buds. These from the frost are now just 
sweetening off to their taste. The old lady leading on ahead, 
stops a little away from the tree, and turns one eye up toward 
its top, steps a little to one side, and looks again. Perhaps 
this is the first time the young birds ever made a full meal off 
birch buds. Up flies the old one ; all follow, one and two 
at a time. Now begins their supper. We can watch 
them and almost see their crops round out, with the quantity 
they eat ; then they have finished, all seem to have enough. 
We do not want to shoot any of them, as we have plenty of 
meat at camp. Soon they are talking to each other. The 
mother bird looks around upon her now big babies, saying 
something which all understand ; squats low upon her breast, 
spreads her wings, and leaving the branch wildly swaying up 
and down, flies straight as an arrow across the old road, 
down, over the brook to the large spruce, in the evergreen 
thicket. All follow, lighting upon the same tree with the 
mother bird, all are now talking together at the same time 
without regard to etiquette, until a slight hint from Mother P, 
when they shake their wings, dress their feathers down with 
throat and bill, stretch first one leg, then the other, tak^ 



52 The Aroostook Woods. 

two or three short steps up and down, then cuddling close 
to their branch, place their heads beneath their wings and 
soon are sleeping, whilst the old lady keeps one eye open for 
callers. 

Passing by the same locality in midwinter the same covey 
are in the trees again budding, getting another supper of 
birch buds, and as we are toiling slowly along toward camp, 
pulling after us our heavily laden toboggans, we are more 
than willing to stop to rest a moment and watch our birds. 
Sitting upon our sleds and keeping quiet, they do not mind us 
at all after their first look and scolding us a little, merely crane 
high their necks, take a look down with one eye, commence 
to feed again and forget our presence. There is two feet of 
light snow upon the ground, the cold wind is now dying out 
and the prospect is for a cold, still night. 

The birds are about done feeding, but as the sun is shining 
a little of its last warmth for the day upon them, they sit 
close down upon the limbs hugging their feathers down to 
their bodies, draw down their necks until you just see their 
small heads above their breasts, and seem to say, " let us have 
the very last of the sunshine ;" or perhaps they just sleep a 
little bit, and what is most likely, are saying their bird 
prayers, being thankful for this little bit of sunshine in winter 
and for the bounteous store of sweet birch buds everywhere 
growing for them. 

" We are getting tired of this, birdies ; you should not sleep 
when you have company." The old lady indignant at hearing 
us speaking, or feeling the change in the temperature now 
that the sun is down, rises upon her feet and with a " pletes ! 
pletes ! pletes ! " flies head downward, plumb in and under 
the snow. "How! had she been contemplating suicide?" 



The Aroostook Partridge. 53 

"No indeed, this is their warmest place to sleep in a cold 
night. Watch the others ; there they go every one of them, 
landing but a few feet apart ; they imitate the mother move- 
ment exactly, under the snow and out of sight, every one. 
Wait one moment more and watch. See ! the old one has 
just poked her nose out and is looking the situation over." 
Three or four more little black heads are pushed up a little 
through their white blankets ; one gives a little twittering 
sound, which is good-night, when the dark heads all disappear. 
The snow closes in after them, and unless one had watched 
their movements or knew of their ways, he would never mis- 
trust what made the many now nearly closed openings in the 
snow, where they scooted in and under, about three or four 
feet from where each one is cuddled with its head beneath 
its wing. 

We often hear the boys say, " such heavy crusts this winter, 
we fear the birds will all be frozen under the snow." Yet 
they seem just as plenty again the next fall ; a few birds may 
be too long imprisoned, and but a very few, for the crusts 
very soon become friable after more snows fall upon them. 
Occasionally the fox and the fisher helps them out if they 
scent them, and yet, these smart fellows do not always 
succeed in getting them, as we have noticed by reading their 
movements, by the signs on the light snow over the crust. 

"What is meant by a drummer; does he drum in the fall? 
How does he drum ? " Occasionally they do a little drum- 
ming in the fall but nothing compared with their spring-time 
drumming. We were speaking of their courting and pairing 
off in the fall, and at this time the young males practice their 
first at the drumming and calling the ladv bird. One must 
laugh to see him parade himself, raise the black ruffle about 



54 The Aroostook AVoods. 

his neck, spread wide his tail, and strut proudly and daintily 
up and down before the admiring pullets. But in the spring- 
time when the snow is all gone and the warm rains have 
washed the trees and branches, the old logs, stumps, rocks and 
mosses, and the thick carpet of leaves upon the ground all 
clean again, and the winter accumulation finds its way to the 
bottom, adding its plant and tree food to the lowest, wet and 
decaying leaves and the rich mold already there, when every 
twig and bud seems smiling with the changes, with the ever- 
greens standing all about, fairly mellow in the sunshine, 
seeming every hour to grow a prettier green, and more 
intensely beautiful with the warmth of the sun that has now 
come with its new power and to stay, bringing all back to 
new life again. Then the partridge drums, and drums as if 
a herald, spreading the glad tidings to all the dwellers of the 
forest. He is wary and watching whilst drumming, and to 
see him at this time, you must creep cautiously and be hidden 
from his view. 

Down in the swamp upon some shaded knoll or a little 
way up the ridge in a thicket of evergreens, here is his own 
favorite drumming log, and no other " masculinous par- 
trigenus " (?) dare approach it. If the log is a dry hollow 
one, it conveys the loud and lively drumming sounds. If wet, 
mossy and decaying only upon the outside, the sounds are less, 
more muffled, and making him appear much farther away 
than he really is. Hark ! hear him again ? It sounds much as> 
if you placed the palm of your hand upon a dry hollow log,, 
beating it slowly at first, three or four beats, then increasing,, 
quicker and harder for a half moment, then lighter to the end 
of the other half of the moment, and you get some idea of the 
drumming sounds. But he does not beat the log with his 



Tin: Aroostook Partridge. SS 

wings, as many would suppose, to hear him. Strutting l>;ick 
and forth over the length of his log, he will stop ;it times, 
crane his neck, and with head turned a little to one side, 
downward, listen, then march on again, stepping slowly and 
daintily, his head just on a line with his back and he is 
making a pretty little bow at each step. Again he stops at 
the other end of his log and listens as before. As he sees not 
nor hears his lady love, he turns, spreads wide his tail and 
repeats the promenade back again. This he will do many 
times, often unfolding his wings and shaking them out as if 
exercisins: for strength of muscle in his arms for the drum- 
ming. Again he reaches the centre of his log (which is 
usually his drumming spot) stops, turns in the direction from 
which he is expecting his charmer and again he is listening. 

She seems a born coquette and is no doubt coming with 
slow mincing steps, taking the most roundabout way behind 
the logs and bushes, stopping often to pretend to be taking a 
bite from something she has no appetite for ; perhaps sitting 
down upon the sunnyside of a fir bush to watch and laugh at 
him, as she peeks between its branches. Finally stopping in 
the centre of his log, he stretches his head and neck high in 
air, standing straight as any soldier drummer boy, opens and 
extends his w T ings to right and left, brings them half-way 
back and beats them against his sides and breast, as before 
mentioned. Commencing with three or four beats slowl)^ 
then faster and quicker until his wings vibrate with lightning- 
like rapidity, producing loudest sounds when half through, 
when the sound begins to lessen, dwindling down to the end 
as if the effort was tiring him. 

Come with me gentle reader, where we can hear this jolly, 
gamey drummer at his best. We will step out of the hunting 



56 The Aroostook Woods. 

lodge on a bright still morning in the sweet spring-time and 
listen to him. He is just over the small clearing and the 
narrow strip of lowland, through which runs the brook, upon 
the ridge opposite and nearly on a level with us, some thirty 
rods away. How very plainly we hear him. And now, 
as the last sounds die away to quiet stillness again, another 
drummer far beyond, as if waiting his turn, joins on imme- 
diately and continues the drumming lively, if fainter, like a 
far away echo of the first, and as we are listening to catch the 
last vibrating sounds which comes to us with the gentle south- 
erly breeze now springing up, the large red headed wood- 
pecker, wholly without good manners, bursts out with loudest 
pounding upon the tall hollow pine just behind us, then with 
a laughing squawk, as we turn quickly toward him, flies 
away with long swoops downward for another tree handy by, 
to repeat and re-echo his merry tattoo. Again our first 
drummer, after waiting a few moments slowly commences, 
but is soon giving us another exhibition of his quick wing 
power upon his breast, clearly conveyed to us by aid of the dry 
log. Then often from three or four different points in the 
wood, at this time in the morning, we hear it repeated, when 
finally the drumming all ceases. They have probably now 
gone to breakfast, but will again cheer us with more lively 
drumming just before sundown, and perhaps (as we have often 
heard them) even late in the night, when the moon is shining 
brightly out, and if we are not sleeping too sound, we may be 
awakened by some young and amorous fellow, that is not yet 
half tired of his newly acquired accomplishment, giving us 
extra, a free and merry serenade. 



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5S The Aroostook Woods. 



AT THE CAMP IN THE WILD WOODS. 



'Tis the last of mild September, now the boys arrive at camp, 
Each one happy with the prospect of canoeing and the tramp ; 
All are merry, busy fellows, some are cleaning up the house, 
Crying woe to every spider, deal the death to every mouse. 

Soon the lodge is all in order, and, from the sleeping place 
The fragrance of the balsam boughs fills every little space ; 
The shelves are newly papered and 'tis clean as one can make, 
So we'll pair off after dinner for the ridges, stream and lake. 

As we dip the purest water from the spring beside the bridge, 
We hear the Captain's chopping echoed loudly o'er the ridge; 
Then he builds the jolly fire outside in open air, 
While the Doctor peels the onions in the breezes blowing fair. 

Soon Frank cuts the steak, gets it ready for the wire, 
While Georgie lays the table far to windward of the fire ; 
Now Jeff brews the coffee, 'tis so good, before we think 
Like Oliver Twist, we ask for more, " I'll take another drink." 

'Most the last of gay October, and the days so fair and bright, 
We almost wish them twice as long, though half as long the night; 
For the pleasant time goes quickly, in the sunny autumn days. 
All too soon the sun is leaving with its last golden rays. 



THE BROAD BARREN. 



NOT truly barren indeed, do we consider these interesting 
and often attractive lowlands. In many of them we 
see much that is pleasing and which invites our attention. 
The one Ave are pleased to speak of, is to us, full of interest 
winter or summer. On a sunny day in winter it shows a gay 
and cheerful picture, from the many belts and clumps of 
pretty evergreens scattered through it upon the more slightly 
elevated spots among the many dwarfed spruce and juniper, 
their bright green contrasting beautifully with the white 
glistening crust upon the deep snow; and this is not a barren 
waste surely, when we consider the immense number of 
dwarfed trees upon which grow each year, quantities of moss, 
for the caribou to feed upon. Then also its moist, spongy 
bottom is rich with mosses and lichen, which they love so well 
that they scrape off the snow with their cloven feet, to feed 
upon it, until the snow is deep and crusted upon its surface. 
Then they creep about upon its frozen crust feeding from off 
the trees again, getting better picking than at first, from off 
the ground, then higher and yet higher as the snow deepens 
and new crusts form, until many a dwarfed tree is stripped of 
its gray, mossy streamers to its very top. 



60 The Aroostook Woods. 

Not a whollv fruitless barren " seemingly," when George 
and Jeff came in one clay in the fall of the year, each with his 
saddle of venison, and returning the next with the Captain 
(promising us a treat at tea time) when at a late supper hour 
they came trudging to camp over the blazed trail, with a full 
creel of trout and three bushels of the finest large, red 
cranberries. These, or rather the promise of them, the "jolly 
jovials" had espied, all in their bud and bloom, early in the 
fat fishing season, in June, while they were quietly paddling 
around the shores of the little lake, and switching their flies 
up and down the winding stream, returning late at night all 
flushed and animated with their day's sport, their creels again 
full, packed with nicely dressed speckled beauties. 

The large barren contains many an acre and all through its 
length, in and out and around the turns, runs the crooked, 
winding stream, cool from many springs, vet wrongf Lilly 
termed the dead water, from the fact of its having but little 
current. But the dead does not well apply to this pretty little 
winding river, for we have seen it so many times glistening in 
the sunshine in one place, rippling away in little wavelets at 
another, while at the next bend below having quite a sweep of 
the wind fair across it, the little rollers were chasing each other 
over to the land, where the hard-hack bushes on the floating 
boggy shore at first were bowing to them as they came, then 
dancing up and down and rocking to and fro, while on the 
long, wide reach farther down, the stream was wide awake 
and surely ail alive, with its many white caps and jolly little 
breakers at the rocks far below. 

We have many pleasant recollections of the old barren, of 
happy hours during lovely sunshiny days ; of lucky and 
successful expeditions ; of the good appetite at noontime 



The Broad Barren. 6i 



gained by the tramp, the pure bracing air and the canoe 
paddle. We see at this time, as if again sitting upon the old 
beaver dam, the luncheon spread out upon the cedar splits, 
the tea-pail beside the fire and the trout or partridge with the 
necessary piece of pork over it, roasting over the coals, the 
Commodore sitting beside us, looking over the waters and the 
woodland with equal enjoyment ; a staunch friend, an enthu- 
siastic sportsman, a keen shot, one that sees, admires, 
appreciates and loves the forests, lakes and streams, and not 
the least, this wild, bleak barren. 

The spruce and fir trees grow well down to the level of the 
barren, nearly encircling it with gentle rising walls of pretty 
green that never lose their beauty. Acres of small second 
growth of white and yellow birch, poplar and evergreens 
grow at one place beside the barren, having sprung up after 
some forest fire, years since. This is a famous place for 
partridge and such a spot as he loves, for he can never go 
supperless to roost in the young forest of birch and buds. 
Here too, the knowing and industrious beaver has for years 
had his home, has built his house of turf and sticks upon the 
bank of the stream, close to the waters edge in many places, 
and whilst the partridge is making his supper from the buds 
upon the trees above, he is, with his sharp strong teeth, cut- 
ting them down below for his winter supply of food. 

Just below this infant forest of birch and poplar (the 
beaver's favorite woods) this bounteous storehouse of ever 
accumulating ford, for the deer, partridge and beaver, not 
forgetting the rabbit, musquash and the jolly frog, a beaver 
dam is situated. The beaver dam is worthy of mention as 
well as the. beavers themselves, as these ingenious contrivors 
are often the originators of the barrens. These dams are 



62 The Aroostook Woods. 

usually built at the narrows of a stream, where often the large 
rocks help much to aid them in lodging their first logs. The 
undertaking is usually commenced at the driest time, or lowest 
stage of water in the fall of the year, and the labor mostly 
performed by the strong, happy, earnest workers during the 
moonlight nights and the dark rainy days. They are com- 
posed of all kinds of cuttings from fair sized trees, divided in 
suitable lengths, down to the smallest shrubs. The branches 
laid lengthwise, crossed, twined and intertwined by the busy 
workers. Sods, rocks and mosses, and in fact everything 
handy and available that they can carry in their teeth or 
beneath their arm, is utilized, until they have the required 
height to flow back sufficient water above. Then with the 
help of the current, which is constantly bringing down the 
many leaves and loose grasses and immense quantities of 
drifting fragments, that all settle in over their network of 
twigs and branches, they are at last rewarded with a strong, 
tight dam, flowing back the water and changing a shallow 
stream to a much deeper one, giving them a nice deep pool 
in front of their winter homes and for their storehouse. 

Standing upon the old beaver dam and looking down the 
narrower, rocky, more rapid stream below as far as the eye 
can see, runs the laughing water, white among the rocks, 
dark and silent in the pools. These are deeply shaded by 
spruce, fir and alder, rock and fern, and where, if you rest 
your eye a moment when the sun is creeping to the west, or 
in the early morning when it is gilding the eastern hills and 
the dew is sparkling on the ferns, and dripping in the pool 
from every branch and bush above, you can see the " speckled 
beauty" turn a somersault in the air and go down with a 
splash. This sends a thrill over you and you may forget for 



The Broad Barren, 63 

the moment your fry pan on the coals. Seizing your rod you 
hasten clown upon the opposite side to have your shadow 
behind you from the water, for he seemed such a nice one 
as you saw him for an instant in the air that you really want 
him, so you do not make a cast directly at him, but a little to 
one side, then repeat. He sees it and shows you his silvery 
side, then retreats to his rocky hiding place again, and 
trailing your flies directly to you and behold, he does not miss 
this chance but chases on and takes the fly almost at your 
f oet ; you land him in less than half a day this time, as he 
only weighs a pound, yet he is full large to be the very nicest 
after all. 

On a fine morning in December, three of us, with luncheon, 
hunting axe and rifles, left the camp early in the day for the 
broad barren. We had about twenty inches of snow upon the 
ground and a nice snow-shoeing crust upon that, just friable 
enough to settle well beneath our tread, without noise, and to 
leave a fine road or snowshoe path behind us. And as the 
route to the barren was a good one, to run over occasionally 
to look for large or small game, we proposed (as was usual 
with us) to break out as we travelled a good road for our 
future use — one that we might pass over with ease, and 
quickly if we wished, without having to scarcely glance where 
we w r ere stepping, leaving us our eyes wholly for the surround- 
ings. To have nice paths through the woods in winter over 
the deep snows to the lakes and barrens, over the ridges, by 
the swamps, besides your line of traps, and a number of them 
in different directions that you may start out any morning 
over the one that gives you the wind in your face (if for a 
deer) is a pleasure to one, after they are completed. And to 
have the paths satisfactory, is not each one travelling at ran- 



64 The Aroostook Woods. 



dom, neither two side by side ; but Indian file, every step, 
which is the easiest as well. The leader takes his usual gait, 
picking his way over the old lumber roads, or through the 
clearest level chances- on the route, and if he is thinking of 
future trips over the path, and that the toboggan may be 
needed to sled home his game, he avoids as much as possible 
all rough chances and sidling places, keeping to the levels, 
stepping heavy upon many a little hillock and winding around 
the tangled windfall, thereby laying out the road where a 
loaded toboggan would run smoothly without the annoyance 
of tipping over every few moments. Indian number two 
follows, stepping exactly where number one did not, which 
leaves the path well broken out for the third one (if coming 
on behind) who should not neglect his part, which is to finish 
up to a nicety the level road by treading down any promi- 
nence left behind. Like this was the path we made this 
clear, bright, breezy morning, from the door of the hunting- 
lodge to the white snow-ice upon the winding stream at the 
barren, where, standing upon the frozen river we looked over 
a pretty winter scene. Everywhere, far and near, was the 
pure white snow that shown brightly upon every little rise or 
hillock, where the late fleecy snow was blown from the shining 
crust by the wind. Pretty, it surely was ; and even more, 
beautiful, because so secluded and so far away from the ever 
rushing, crushing struggle after the shining dollars, being 
situated in the heart of "God's Country" dotted here and 
there by clumps of leafless juniper and low, scrubby spruce, 
with scant dark foliage, yet all gay with their gray moss 
streamers trailing out with the breeze. 

Belts of evergreens and larger dark spruce, looking warm 
and cosy upon their sunny side (where, sometimes, and 



The Broad Barren. 65 

perhaps at this moment, lies, out of the wind at mid-day 
the wary caribou, wide awake even if half asleep, while chew- 
ing over again his morning browsings). While the sun shines 
above over all, brightening the wavy tops of the trees, and 
tempering down the keen edge of the northwest winds that are 
sure to find us out if we come down when they are having a 
little fun, racing wild and free over their broad, white park. 
Circling away from the vicinity of (at this time) the best 
feeding ground for the caribou, we followed the stream down 
to the young birch forest, crossed over to the lower end and 
commenced our quiet still hunting up the barren with the 
wind blowing strong toward us. Travelling a little way 
apart, keeping just in sight of each other, we moved from one 
clump of trees to another, w r ith an easy going lounging gait, 
stopping at times behind some friendly evergreen to look well 
over every small opening. It was a most perfect day for hunt- 
ing on the barrens, and we were in great hopes of interviewing 
Mr. Caribou strolling down the wind, and in this were not to 
be disappointed, for we had gone but a little way before we 
sighted a moving caribou, that at the first was feeding and 
slowly moving about. As he wandered out in full sight 
in a clear space, knowing their imperfect vision at a distance 
and being dressed in caribou plumage, a suit of gray much 
like the trunks of the trees and similar to their own color, we 
instead of walking toward him, played caribou, thinking we 
might induce him to come to see us. Noting his drowsy, 
dreamy movements while feeding about as if grieved or 
sleepy, we concluded we could imitate him quite easily, 
for having been disappointed in love many times in youth, we 
could easily adapt this style rather suggestive of misery. So 
stepping out in plain sight, we lounged about with head down, 



66 The Aroostook Woods. 

from tree to bush, for a moment, soon attracting his attention, 
when we immediately stepped to cover. This brought him 
to us almost at once. Throwing up his head he came trotting 
down with the wind to within a few rods of us, when know- 
ing he was about where he saw the supposed caribou, stopped 
to look about him, and received a shot. As he ran off to 
one side, from another ambuscade he received the second shot, 
when he plunged madly on out of sight. Quickly after the 
shooting, before any of us had stirred from our cover, down 
with the wind and trotting directly for us, came another, a young 
buck, and as he halted like the first in nearly the same spot, 
two or three shots struck him and he leaped away behind the 
trees after the other. Following their tracks, we found they 
had been badly wounded, signs showing this at each jump. 
Coming to where a number of the small dry juniper trees had 
been broken off by the breast of the large one, we soon saw 
him lying quite dead behind the evergreens. A few steps 
further on the young buck also was lying, his spirit already 
far away in the sunny glades of those vast and endless happy 
hunting grounds. 

Drawing them back and behind the shelter of the evergreens 
where we had done the shooting, we went quickly at work to 
dress them, it being best to do so as soon as down if possible. 

The younger of our party, a mere lad, was told by his 
guardian to build us a fire as quickly as possible, as the wind 
was now whistling; down the long reach with a chilling effect 
upon us after the excitement. This he proceeded to do, but 
often his eye was away up the barren, and it was but a few 
moments after that he made the most admirable shot that can 
be given an animal. Admirable because it gave no pain, 
being: instantaneous death. I believe our voung friend had 



The Broad Barren. 67 

been unusually excited over this, to hi in, new kind of game, 
for although he was a keen shot for smaller game, he had 
yet to see and level on his first deer or caribou, and as they 
came and halted, with their eyes looking directly in ours, their 
heads high in air, such pictures to behold for the first time, 
upon the wild, white barren, and so quickly away again, he 
forgot he held a splendid rifle in his hand until they were out 
of sight. 

But the sequel proved he had recovered from the buck fever. 
While we have been busy with our work with our heads down, 
he has been watching a movement up the wind, and as he 
hangs the black kettle over a cheerful fire of dry juniper and 
turns to glance again he quickly reaches his rifle and crouch- 
ing upon one knee, old hunter style, gives the warning, 
"Hist!" We quietly settle down and half turning, see com- 
ing trotting down towards us a stately dame caribou, large 
and high headed. This was the boy's chance, and well he 
improved it. She came in the tracks of the others before her, 
but not having the same curiosity, or being a little more wary, 
halted a long shot away, head on, to take a look at the picture 
before bounding. She had hardly made the stop when the boy-s 
rifle cracked, and you could see the lead strike as exactly in 
the centre of her forehead as if you placed a finger there, and 
the white brain shoot out like stars, with her dark forehead as 
a background. Down she dropped without the sign of a 
tremor, as dead before she settled to the ground as if killed 
the day before. The boy was the lion for the season ; we 
never saw a cooler shot for the distance. This gave another 
to care for, but our work in good time was well done, and 
cleansing our hands by repeated washing in the melting snow 
water beside the fire, w r e sat down to the welcome luncheon. 



6S The Aroostook Woods. 

Dinner over and the sun looking toward the down grade, 
we prepare for leaving behind the breezy park. First, we lay- 
aside for each to carry home, a quarter of venison and a hide. 
The balance is cleansed in snow, packed in the same and a 
thick covering of boughs placed upon it to keep off the sun, 
and to mark the spot where cached. The quarters of venison 
are folded in the hides and securely tied w r ith withes of the red 
osier. A strap or band is braided of the same, which is 
attached to the pack for handy carrying. The pack resting 
high upon the back, the short braided band secured at each 
end is passed over the head, resting upon the right shoulder, 
down over the breast and under the left arm, thus relieving 
hands and arms from the care of it. Leaving the hunting 
axe with its strap and case hanging beside the blackened tea 
pail for our use when returning for the venison, we slip on 
our snow-shoes, shoulder the packs, pick up our rifles and lay 
our course straight for the winding stream, across, and down 
to our well trodden snow-shoe beat. Then into the thick 
green woods, where the frisky winds are but a sigh above us, 
and on to camp, where we arrive with the twilight, just a 
little bit tired and a big bit hungry. But after our hearty 
supper and the refreshing sleep, then our coffee in the morn- 
ing, we prove to be all ready and impatient for the pleasure 
of again starting out on the snow-shoe road, across the dell 
and through the glade, over the hard wood ridge, then through 
the evergreen swamp and over the barren, with our to- 
boggans, to draw to camp our venison. One unacquainted 
with the way of handling venison might say : what can be 
done with so much wild meat? None should be wasted, none 
need be. With us a good part is sent home, and what they 
cannot use, there is many a family thankful for, and who 



The Broad Barren. 69 



will take kindly to stewed venison. And there are friends 
that remember 11s when "striking it lucky;" they should 
be thought of in return. And there is the friendly Indian 
who makes the baskets and weaves our snow-shoes, having 
little time to hunt himself, though naturally a dear lover of 
wild meat, he can be made to show grateful smiles over his 
usually sober face, and his black eyes to twinkle at you kindly 
on being presented with a piece, for a smother, or a stew ; 
and not a morsel wasted, we warrant. 

And not just a little bit will satisfy us fellow r s at the hunting 
lodge, when we have plenty for steaks, stews and smothers 
(and a rib roasted over the coals is not too bad, really) con- 
sidering our appetites, always the very best from tramping in 
the pure forest air. And then the best of all is to be able 
always to preserve it by shrinking and drying, with a little 
salt and smoke, and it will keep a long time (if you can keep 
it.) It is then a welcome treat for everyone; particularly 
acceptable at tea time, shaved thin, and makes a very welcome 
addition to a hunter's dinner at noontime, when he sits down 
beside the brook far back over the ridges to eat his luncheon, 
without having shot a grouse or caught a trout while on the 
tramp. Most sportsmen are very fond of dried venison, and 
really, if nicely prepared, it is excellent. We call to mind 
one who takes most kindly to this luxury and have seen him 
with a flake of his favorite relish in his hand, whittling thin 
shavings therefrom with his knife, and eating it with very 
evident satisfaction expressed in his countenance at the time, 
apparently oblivious to all else but its fine flavor, the tramp 
and hunt for it, the shot he gave it, and the very welcome 
sight of camp and supper on his return. 



Among the Evergreens. 71 



THE SNOWY NIGHT IN THE WOODS, 



The snow, as light as downy feather ere was seen, so pure and white, 
lias fallen softly all the day, ne'er ceasing through the silent night. 
Covering all the woodland o'er, and levelling up the rocky fell, 
The many clustering evergreens, holding a larger share as well. 

Shielding the many wild-wood dwellers, safely housed up from the storm. 
Beneath the fir bough, and the blow down, wherever they have found 
a home. 
In the rocks behind the ferns, underneath the brake and bramble, 
In many a cave and hollow pine log, in the thicket and the dell. 

Upon the deer, lying beneath the thick and drooping evergreen, 
Till nought but just an eye and ear, by each other can be seen. 

Till every bough above is downward bent, some drooping to the ground 
And the deer are often covered o'er with whitest robes like eider down. 
When they must then arise to be relieved, ere buried almost quite, 
Then turn, lie down again and rest, and thus to do till coming light. 

And in the evergreens, beneath their thickest boughs the storm does 

brin^ 
Many a wild-wood winter bird, to rest with its head beneath a wing, 
"With every feather snugly hugging down, and its breast turned to 

the breeze, 
To sleep, and wake, and sleep again, till morning shows between the 

trees. 

When every rock and fern, and every stump of spruce, cut high or low, 
And every mossy log and fallen tree, lie hidden beneath the snow, 
While every bush and tree above are all arrayed in spotless white, 
All bending, drooping, calm and quiet, in the coming morning light. 



THE AERIAL BLIND. 



YEARS past and at a time when the deer were scarce com- 
pared with the present, and more wild with all from too 
much stalking, we concluded to build us a rookery up among 
the branches of the trees, high enough, that the breezes should 
not notify the deer and caribou of our presence in their feed- 
ing grounds. Accordingly, a Boston boy and your humble 
servant, built us what we called the "Aerial Blind." Our 
companion had acquired the sobriquet of Doctor, so called 
from his being well versed in chemistry. He had soon learned 
to answer to this title, no doubt fully realizing as well as we 
that he had taken all the degrees necessary for treating healthy 
woodsmen like ourselves. But his ability to compound medi- 
cines was such that one found it impossible to resist swallow- 
ing a dose of his dispensing. The doctor, truly in love with 
the health renewing forest, is entertaining and cheerful ; he 
not only enjoys the good time on an outing, but seems the hap- 
piest when industriously assisting to make it more pleasant 
and enjoyable to the party. So we two, armed and equipped 
with saw, axe and hammer, spikes, nails and augur, ropes, 
wire and dinner, not forgetting the blackened tea pail, which 



The Aerial Blind. 73 

we tied on behind a large load of ceder splits, on the toboggan, 
started for the scene of action a half mile distant from our 
camp. Arriving, we reviewed the position and started in for 
a cheerful day of interesting work. The situation showed 
four lumber roads coming into one, and that the main road 
to the landing on the stream. This we considered one of the 
best stands for the game, as the deer and caribou both love to 
wander up and down the old woods roads, feeding upon the 
young sprouts from the old cuttings, besides it being the 
better travelling which they will often take advantage of. 
Choosing a central spot where suitable trees were growing, to 
support our structure, also to give a good view of the roads, 
we commence our engineering. 

Cutting two straight spruce poles over twenty feet long, we 
bore them with our one and a quarter inch augur, put into 
them twenty good rounds, and have what we first need, a 
twenty foot ladder. This is raised up beside a large yellow 
birch, four feet from a thrifty spruce, which two trees hold 
up the wide end. Ten feet away stands another nice spruce, 
and these are all bored into, stout pins driven in, and this 
gives us a good rest for our floor timbers. Tough little straight 
spruce poles resting upon these are wired solid, and then comes 
our flooring of the cedar splits ; next, foot rails, hand rails, or 
side railings, to steady one while walking along, also capital to 
rest a rifle when making a fine, steady shot. In a similar 
manner we ran the poles from the two trees to the one, giving 
a good pitch for the roofing, which was sail cloth, painted to 
match the tree bodies. Then sawing off the single spruce 
above the roof we had a steady and solid platform, that would 
bear up near a ton's weight ; a couple of boxes for seats, each 
a buffalo robe and our overcoats, which kept us comfortable in 



74 The Aroostook Woods. 

the coolest days. We could sit here on the boxes leaning: agfainst 
the trees, one watching the south, his eyes travelling from 
east to west, the other the north, scanning to and from the 
same points. On the warm still days this was glorious ; if a 
little chilly we would don our overcoats and wrap around us 
our buffalos. Eyes open, constantly taking in the roads, little 
glades and openings, ears alert to catch the snap of a dry stick 
if stepped upon by the game, or the rustle of the dried leaves as 
they wandered through them much above their dew claws. 
These sounds you hear at times when you cannot see the game, 
yet knowing as well it is a deer as if you saw him ; when you 
may step cautiously toward the last sound you heard of 
him, but likely he has passed to leeward, smells you, and 
is off like the wind. We never wearied of this watching, 
always thinking perhaps the next moment our game might 
come wandering along quite unsuspicious of our close proxim- 
ity, with head down, feeding slowly on, taking a bite only here 
and there, until the sharp crack of the rifle, when if not 
killed, or even hit, they jump to one side, or perhaps toward 
you, head and tail erect. Just before he reminded you of a 
lazy calf, now he is a picture you would like photographed. 
He stares about in astonishment, neither sees, hears, or smells 
the enemy. Wait a second until he turns his broadside to 
look the other way, as he will ; now, crack, again. Ah ! he 
hugs his tail close ; one, two, three jumps, and he is down. 
We keep quiet where we are a few moments to see if he has 
company, then go down to view the prize and take care 
of it. 

Oh, the man}- happy hours with a pleasant companion, upon 
the old " aerial blind." We hated to give it up, but since 
it came in under the head of unlawful taking of game we have 



The Aerial Blind 75 

passed it by, yet never have gone hungry for venison without 
it. Sitting upon the blind one quiet sunny day in the fall 
of the year, watching and waiting, I had really fallen in a 
dose, when I was brought around again by an old bluejay's 
screaming over my head. Looking down the main logging 
road I saw a fine buck walking leisurly up toward me, and 
stopping, head on, stood for a moment as if looking directly 
at me, but apparently he saw nothing to fear, and turned a 
little to one side to take a bite, when he received the shot. 
One bound, and he w r as out of sight in the bushes. Pumping 
in another cartridge, I stepped down the ladder and slowly 
worked down to leeward of the place where I expected to find 
him, finished, but he was not co be found so quickly. The 
leaves were thick upon the ground and after two or three 
jumps one could not track him. I picked up a wad of hair 
and saw a few drops of blood upon the leaves but no deer. 
After taking the course of the jump and then loosing all 
trace entirely, I circled around and back to the spot without 
any more signs. Unwilling to give up, knowing he was 
badly wounded, I took another circling tour, widening out, 
gradually working around again, and when nearly to the spot, 
passing through some thick evergreens just below r the shooting 
I nearly stepped upon him in the thicket laying down. He 
jumped as quick as my eye met his, and I guess I was 
startled the most for I fired too quick and wild, and overshot. 
Into the thickest part of a swamp he ran. I could not see 
him, but listening attentively I knew he had again stopped. 
I should have left him alone awhile then, as this is usually the 
proper thing to do, for if I started him again without dropping 
him, he would run as long as any life was left. However, I 
marked the location by some taller trees, worked around to 



76 The Aroostook Woods. 

leeward, and came upon him so carefully that I saw him 
before he did me. He was standing upon his feet looking 
toward the place where he last saw me. This time he was 
handy and dropped in his tracks. Looking over the ground 
the next day more carefully, I found when first fired at he 
had made a few jumps to the eastward, and turned square 
north for this thicket, and laid down, where I found him at 
the second circling. 

Once more dear reader we will go back to the dear old 
blind now so old and weather beaten that it is only safe for 
two of us, and we must step lightly. Go with me this lovely 
autumn day, and as you climb the twenty foot ladder and 
arrive at the last round, you reach up, grasp a branch and 
take a seat upon the flooring. You get your breath and take 
a long draught of the upper fragrant air off the trees, and 
looking around you are already interested as I can plainly see. 
Stepping up upon the old flooring, you stand leaning against 
the big birch and look for miles over the pretty forest, varying 
and prettier with every sweep of the eye. Tree tops waving 
gently in the breeze, the beech leaves rustling on the trees, the 
branches swaying to and fro while their shadows are mimic- 
ing upon the ground. Upon the right we see the ridge of 
mostly hard woods, many yet wearing those beautiful shades 
of autumn, while mixed in are just enough tall evergreens to 
brighten up the picture and all grow taller seemingly ; and 
are they not elegant, as they reach the top of the ridge and are 
joined by the rosy clouds, no more beautiful than the trees, 
though they vie with sunny Italy. In front of us and to the 
left, we look for miles over the evergreens, with only occa- 
sional little hills of hard wood, and these growing more 
scattering as we look beyond, until they all end far below as 



The Aerial Blind 77 

if a broad lake lay at the bottom. Beyond this again we just see 
the distant woodland showing its faint line of smokey blue. 
What intervenes? The broad barren and its winding 
stream. 

You can trace the little brook from here a mile or more, 
down its winding course by the lower land and the scattering 
juniper along its line. And here close beside it on the left, 
upon the knolls are many prettier clumps of the light green 
firs beside the darker spruce, so tall, which are relieved and 
made as beautiful by their tops being loaded with a wealth 
of golden cones. Here and there those monster tall ones have 
been left year after year, by the lumbermen for some slight fault 
in their growth, or because singly and alone. And they, with 
the few venerable pines, are like sentinels watching over the 
large army, while all are gently waving with the sunshine 
over all, the youngest just as pretty as its brother straight 

and tall. 

Very many pleasant hours we have sat here, enjoving it 

very much if we did not get a shot. And many times alone, 
miles from any human being, yet never lonesome, and never 
weary of the scene, always enjoying the sweet woods and 
lovely sunshine in the fall time, when all is so beautiful to look 
upon. The many different shades of the trees, the ever beau- 
tiful green of the fir, spruce and hemlock, the bright scarlet 
and crimson, yellow, green and golden of the autumn leaves, 
the thick carpet of dried ones upon the ground, that dance 
and rustle in the breeze, all down beside the little stream of 
bright, sparkling water which is ever running on its zigzag 
course by the trees and rocks, ever singifig its little song of 
sportive gladness. And with always a little life to add much 
to the interest, the frisky little squirrels running over the 




THE AERIAL BLIND. 



The Aerial Blind. 79 

leaves, making so much noise at a quiet time that you at first 
think a deer is coming. The many different birds flying and 
hopping about, many coming so near you when you are sitting 
motionless as to almost light upon you. And sitting here 
upon the old blind when the wind is sighing through the trees, 
we listen to the "voices in the w T ood," and hear the many 
low murmuring sounds, as if persons talking together. Far 
away sounds, as if the hounds were baying upon the track. 
Oftentimes low strains come to us, faintly, as distant singing; 
often a sound so much like a shrill whistle as to startle one, 
thinking some one is signaling to you. And suddenly, as 
the wind whirls by, a scream and a screech, sounding so 
human, or inhuman, as to really startle one, as some old 
weather beaten and dry knotty top chafed quickly against one 
similar; and always those low murmuring voices coming 
down the wind. 

Standing alone one bright, still day, leaning beside the 
spruce opposite you, I had some callers. At the first a red 
squirrel was playing up and down the smooth beech about 
thirty feet from us, when suddenly an owl that his loud chat- 
tering had awakened, started from her roost in the thick spruce 
to catch and eat him. The squirrel saw her coming, and 
when the owl was pretty close the squirrel was upon the other 
side of the tree, and around skipped the squirrel as around 

1 

tlew the owl ; faster and down they circled around and down- 
ward, when the squirrel dodged in his hole at the foot of the 
tree. The owl, anxious for the prize, carried too much steam 
toward the last, and whacked her wing so hard against the 
beech that she sprawled out upon the ground. She picked 
herself up and lighting upon a near tree, looked down, very 
sorry like. The squirrel poked his nose out and gave her a 



So The Aroostook Woods. 

long, happy chitter. Exit owl, up again squirrel, all alive 
with the fun, and as frisky as ever. That rather funny fellow 
the woodpecker, next came flying directly to me (I wasn't 
afraid.) He brought up upon the spruce tree directly oppo- 
site my ear and commenced his drillings for his favorite food, 
the white wood worm. " Tap-tap-tappity-tap " and his feet 
made loud scratchings as he worked up and down on the 
rough spruce bark. Presently he worked around to within 
five or six inches of my nose before he saw me. Suddenly he 
stopped and looked me square in the eves, gave one horrified 
squawk, that even startled me, as he flew out and away. Occa- 
sionally a partridge or two would show themselves crossing 
the roads and sometimes loiter around a little too late if we 
needed them. Rabbits, toward evening, we often saw hop- 
ping about getting their suppers, and often were we deceived 
by big sounds from little feet ; and at times, hearing the 
cracking sounds of sticks breaking beneath their tread we 
knew that some large game had passed, just out of our sight, 
behind some thicker growth. One dark drizzly day, towards 
evening, a small dog fox came out of an old road in front of 
me. I had no luck that afternoon and concluded I would 
carry him to camp, if nothing more ; and as he was nosing 
about at his ease, I waited a bit for a sure shot with the rifle. 
Hearing a mouse squeak, or seeing something he would like 
for supper, he pricked up his ears and commenced creeping 
up the road, giving a very good shot. I rested the rifle upon 
the railing, fired for his head, and missed it by just one six- 
teenth of an inch. The bullet struck, spank, in the soft wet 
earth just under his nose, splashing the dirt and water in his 
eyes. If vou saw him you would have smiled. He turned 
a back hand-spring and gave two or three of the most astonish- 



Tin: Aerial Blind. Si 

ed yelps, mixed with small growls, and with every hair from 
his nose to the tip of his brush standing up, he skipped away 
lively down the same way he came. 

It is really interesting to sit quietly up in the trees and 
watch the deer below in their native wildwood, free, and 
roaming at will, wholly unmindful of your presence, and not 
an enemy to them lurking near, as they stroll about and some- 
times pass immediately beneath you, feeding leisurely along, 
now and then stopping and raising their heads to look anx- 
iously about if they hear any unusual sound, which must be 
unusual to attract any attention from them. Not the wild 
roar or whistling of the winds, the groaning or creaking of 
the trees, or even the falling crash of an old monarch of the 
forest, unless very close to them, and then only one little jump 
do thev make before understanding it all. Nor the hooting 
or screech of the owl, or the half yawn, half scream of the 
hob cat, nor the call of the fisher (the black cat) as he starts 
out on his evening's raid at sundown. All these are familiar 
sounds to the deer, at which they scarcely raise their heads 
from their feeding. We had the pleasure at one time in the 
fall of the year while sitting upon the old blind, of seeing the 
unexpected meeting of two deer, which were both females. 
One was feeding very leisurely, its head low down, for its 
favorite plant or shrub, its sauntering movements, as usual 
when feeding at ease, suggesting it might be half asleep, when 
suddenly it hears a sound different from the scampering of 
the squirrels or the soughing of the winds. This is a steady 
rustle of the dried leaves upon the ground conveyed more dis- 
tinctly by the breeze being toward the listener. Another deer 
as slowly wading by through the thick covering upon the 
mould of dry and rustling leaves, which are very dry and 



S3 The Aroostook Woods. 

rustle loudly, and more than ankle deep where blown into the 
little hollows. Upon hearing this noise the listening deer, 
now showing to be wide awake, quickly raises its head 
and directs its eyes at the first glance, exactly to where the 
sound conies from. Seeing walking along one of its* own 
kind, it stands intently looking for a moment, when it utters 
a low sound to attract the traveller's attention. The new 
comer stops, looks, and sees a friend, but remains motionless 
and as intently gazing as the other, when the first to observe, 
after a full moment, takes two or three steps forward, and 
then trots briskly up to within a few feet of the new arrival, 
and after exchanging greetings at this little distance, each 
quietly resume their walking, soon separating and drifting 
away from each other, each to wander and feed by itself 
alone. The pretty red squirrels greet the deer with many 
noisy little barkings, and their loud and long chattering as 
they dart across their path at will, while the birds fly and sing 
all about them without being noticed. All except the impu- 
dent bluejay, the beautiful tattler, who is always a hand)- by 
nuisance, knowing just where the sportsman is sitting or 
standing, on the watch, and if a deer is approaching he will 
make the forest ling with his noisy screamings, while the war}' 
buck at this apparent warning, will stop and prick up his 
ears all alert for some danger. We may stand close beside 
a large tree without moving and have the game pass within 
a few feet of us, perfectly unconscious of our presence, if Ave 
have the wind blowing free from the game towards us. But 
the slightest movement on our part, and they catch the human 
eye upon them, a small sized cyclone of leaves, twigs, dirt 
and heels are seen for a moment whirling in the air, and we 
are alone again. 



THE ROCKY BLUFF. 



BACK among the hills, away beyond the hunting lodge 
and about midway between the lakes and barrens is 
situated the rocky bluff, a mass of rocks, rolled out and 
pitched high by some upheaval of nature in the early days, or 
perhaps dumped off from some heavily loaded ice island 
during the glacial period. It ends abruptly at the south end 
with the bluff, down which steep descent one can pass by 
goin^ between and around the lar^e granite blocks and 
boulders, and beneath their shelving ends, which are all 
bleached and gray from years of storm and sunshine upon 
their south and cast exposure, but dark and mossed over at 
their base and north side where thev are partly shaded by the 
evergreens of dwarfed growth which are standing upon the 
tops of the rocks, between them, and growing out of the 
fissures or small creviecs where they can rind a rooting chance. 
The bluff, beginning at the north, a quarter of a mile away, 
with three or four black mossy giants of rock which are 
standing upon tip-toe beneath the dark spruces, and which 
old granite sentinels we look for, as they are our guides to 
the bluff beyond, when approaching it from any northerly 



84 The Aroostook Woods. 

point. An airy promenade this, in midwinter, with a cold 
norther sweeping its upper levels, but a glorious perching 
chance in the mild sunny days of the Indian summer, for to 
be upon the high granite horse-back, close to and nearly on a 
level with the tall hard wood tree tops that grow out of the 
rich bottom beside its base, the mild breeze constantly bring- 
ing to you the sweet odors from the wood below, looking 
away for miles over the gently waving tree tops, is a pleasure 
indeed, while below, and near at hand beside you, and in the 
branches before you, you are constantly being entertained by 
the squirrels and birds, which in a very short time after your 
arrival, instead of being frightened seem rather to enjoy your 
visit, often coming quite near and eyeing you curiously, as 
you sit so quietly in their wide and roomy reception hall. 

Here, watching over many an acre of hard wood growth, 
thickly carpeted with dried leaves, one can occasionally see a 
deer or more, wandering, and likely toward you and the shel- 
ter of the bluff, and often long before lie is near enough to you 
for a shot. This rocky eyrie with its precipitous sides and 
steep bluff, with .its east and south exposures lying much in 
the sunshine, has many a well sheltered nook. These are 
partly filled with the dried leaves blown in from off the tree 
tops close beside them, and many, with good shelving roofs 
over them of projecting granite are dry and comfortable 
quarters for some of the forest roamers, and particularly 
"Mr. Bruin." Here in the late sunny days, after his long 
and wide tour of summer roaming he may lie, high and dry, 
safe from intrusion, and sleep in the warm sunshine enjoying 
his rest each day, after his nightly wanderings, and when the 
cold weather comes upon him, and the snow is too deep for 
his short legs and big feet, and the food he likes is frozen 



The Rocky Bluff. 85 

and spoiled for his taste, the roots in the ground which he 
loves, and the beech nuts as well, are buried beneath the 
snow, he from force of circumstances, as well as from his 
love of sleep perhaps, bethinks him of a warm nest for a long 
rest of winter quiet, to hibernate, as it is their nature so to 
do, to pass the winter in close quarters and seclusion, there 
to sleep until the snow ceases for the season, and the warm 
rains take its place, followed by the bright sun warming all 
to new life, when once more he can trot about and find his 
food. So if nothing: has disturbed his sunny cave where he 
snoozed away the most of the bright days in the Indian sum- 
mer time, he retires to it, and prepares it for his den. 

He strips the small dead cedar trees of their dry bark, 
making it fine with tooth and nail as he tears it off them, and 
with this and the leaves and mosses, beneath and around him, 
makes a warm nest for his long winter of quiet rest, stopping 
the entire entrance except a very small breathing hole, with 
branches, twigs and mosses, after his last outing for the 
season. Here he lies warm and dry, sleeping away the winter 
months, in his fat content. His breathing hole always kept 
open by his own warmth, unmindful of the wolf, or Indian 
devil, that at midnight may sit upon his roof-top and howl at 
the moon. But, should the watchful .hunter while snow-shoe- 
ing past his den, chance to see that small cloud of warm 
steaminc- air coming through the snow from out his breathing 
hole, his fate is sealed. 

But our great interest in the bluff was its being situated in 
the line of travel of the caribou, as in their wanderings to the 
north, from the south streams and barrens, or back, again, 
they often wound around the foot of the rocky spur, it being 
a landmark for them, a bright sunny spot, and often a friendly 



86 The Aroostook Woods. 

shelter from the cold winds, for these hardy fellows, though 
not seeming to care a straw for the coldest weather, have often 
been seen enjoying their warm sun-bath. So, starting the 
caribou within a mile or two of the bluff, going either way, 
then leaving them and hurrying forward, getting a good posi- 
tion upon the rocks in advance of their coming, and we had 
an advantage over them not often or easily attained. 

During two or three hunting seasons we have frequently 
seen the track of an over-large caribou, and finally had several 
times interviewed the old fellow himself, when he would be 
the first to throw up his head and bound away, carrying the 
herd after him. lie was high-headed and long-legged, gaunt 
and slab-sided, his coat always bleached to tawny white and 
lightest gray, stubby, scraggy antlers, and unmistakably old 
in his looks, but not in action, for he would trot away on 
those long legs like the wind. Of course we called him the 
4 'Jumbo Caribou,' and his track was quickly recognized by 
its immense size. We always spared his life on account o£ 
his what would be tough-chewing steaks, and dry rib stews. 
But he was often threatened, for his example of extreme 
wariness, for when with the drove, his head would be the hist 
seen, high in the air, and with sniff and snort, away he would 
fly with the herd, never known to break his trot unless to 
leap over something in his way. 

At the beginning of winter, one morning after a jolly snow 
storm, Joe and the crew being at the camp, they took the 
advantage of such elegant tracking and started off southerly, 
for a deer or caribou. Drifting away over the hills, some- 
times heading nearly east, then south, again nearly west, and 
back to south, they zig-zagged back and forth, working mostly 
south, hoping to find something handy near home. If not, to 



The Rocky Bluff. S- 

eat their dinners sitting upon their favorite rocks at the south 
end of the bluff, travelling their easy going, quiet gait, often 
stopping to watch awhile and listen, keeping near enough 
to each other to hear the usual signal. At last as they cross 
the dry ravine, from which the land rises gradually for a mile, 
to the black giants, Joe being well to the east, the crew work- 
ing back from west to south, hears Joe give the "signal" 
(which means, only big game, and that on the jump) when 
they quickly come together at the south line again, and hurry 
for the bluff. 

As Joe has started a bunch of caribou which have trotted 
away south, a little easterly, he disturbing them while on their 
way north, over the trail running by the rocky bluff on its 
east side, they expect before long to see the caribou walking 
back to the bluff, to try the west side of the horse-back, on 
their way north again. Soon passing the old sentinels be- 
neath the black spruces, they hurry on and take a position 
among the boulders on the bluff. 

They had been sitting there nearly an hour, among the low- 
scrubby evergreens, side by side upon their bough cushioned 
rocks, had eaten their cold lunch and had indulged in many a 
fragrant whiff of the nerve quieter, which all floated away 
among the tree tops, When Joe whispers, "coming." 

An occasional snapping of underbrush is heard and the 
sounds coming from the south-east, directs their attention to a 
small thicket of low firs, when a head and antlers is seen 
among the green boughs, followed by others. Soon a tall 
gaunt buck caribou steps out in the open hard wood growth, 
and is slowly walking toward the bluff followed by the drove 
all unsuspicious of danger. 

14 Jolly, what a drove," says Joe and adds : 



88 The Aroostook Woods. 

''That's a pretty sight to see if we do not get a shot, and 
that's old Jumbo, with his stumpy mis-shapen horns, on the 
lead. Say, Mr. Crew, let's kill the big buek, we have a tine 
chance ! " 

"No, Joe! we know him too well ; he is not fat, and his 
antlers are worthless ; so scrubby from old age, he can never 
grow another pretty set in this life, as each year he sheds 
them, the} - grow on more inferior." 

"Say then, let's take the two large ones without horns!" 

"No, Joe ! for if they have two lambs apiece next spring, 
it would make a difference in these woods of six caribou." 

"Well ! Well ! yon must say quick !" 

kk One of the two young bucks in the rear is all we want, 
Joe, the next to the last ; wait until he is just opposite beneath 
us, when we will both shoot together, and likely kill him 
instantly, be ready and shoot low or yon will shoot over. 
One, — two, — three ! " 

Crack ! Crack ! 

" Not quite simultaneous, Joe, but how's this ? Both youn^ 
bucks are dead ! " 

"My rifle shoots to the left, " says Joe. 



JOE AND CRONIE. 



CRONIE had just finished planting his garden ; many 
bright red Aroostook angle worms had been saved in 
case he should conclude sometime in the near future to start 
off on a fishing trip. These smart and squirmy, so very hideous 
to a sensitive person, yet so very jolly to the bait fisherman, 
had been given a fine chance in a tomato can with rich earth, 
covered with a fresh green sod and placed upon the moist 
ground in a cool, shady chance, when up comes Joe. 

"Hello, Cronie." 

"Hello, Joe." 

"Let's go fishing," says Joe. 

"Guess I can't, Joe." 

"Well, now, 1 wish to make a few remarks to you Cronie." 

"All right, sit right down here beside me and explain 
yourself." 

"Do you know, Cronie, how very pleasant it is to be in 
the woods, at the hunting lodge, just about this time in the 



spring: 



"Yes, indeed " 

"Hold on ! let me tell it. The ice is all out of the lakes, so 



90 The Aroostook Woods. 

now the trout are cruising around the shores and a few sport- 
ing in the quick waters even this early. The flies are not at 
all troublesome as yet, and you know in two weeks they will 
be just horrid. The green leaves are just opening from the 
buds " 

" Seems I smell 'em, Joe." 

"Wait! the bears are roaming around the camp trying to 
steal some more of your bait, just for fun." 

"That settles it, I ain't going." 

"Oh, sho ! come on ; the sun is nice and warm through the 
day, and the nights are just cool enough to have a nice fire, 
while sleeping in the shelter tent down along the stream at 
the fishing chance. And the mornings are so bright and 
cheery with the birds singing so gaily " 

"Tie up, Joseph, I guess " 

"Just hold on a moment if you please; you know the 
camp wants to be opened to the sun and a fire in the stove to 
sweeten things ; and its just the time to make a garden, plant 
some potatoes, beans and cucumbers to have to eat during the 
fall outing. How they will grow on the new land. Just 
think of what a little paradise of a garden we can have even 
there, away back in the woods. Now what do you say? ' 

"But you see, Joe " 

"Wait a moment, and just think of those six and eight 
ounce trout, out of the water and into the pan ten minutes 
after." 

" Hold up Joe, I want to say to " 

"I can't stop just now, please; the moon rises at nine 
o'clock, the night promises fair, we can get to camp by noon 
to-morrow, even should we have to walk the horse up the 
hills. I have the new boat finished for the doctor ; he writes, 



]<>K AND CltONIE. (JI 



' be sure to take it with you when you go, and it will be there 
for the fall outing;' and if you are a little rheumy and do not 
feel real strong and hearty, I will do the propelling, you shall 
sit in the stern with your paddle and " 

Just at this moment Joe was shut off rather suddenly. 
Cronie had been slowly cutting; tobacco and flllinp; the briar- 
wood during Joe's earnest and prolonged harrangue, and 
while his attention is attracted to an old mother robbin reel- 
breast that has a nest of young ones in the tree handy by, is 
tugging at a monstrous black headed angle worm, and Joe is 
much interested, a smile upon his face, lips apart, eyes wide 
open. Cronie carlessly seratches an orono match. New 
although Joe's head was turned to one side, the disagreeable 
brimstone which he positively abhors was wafted to, and 
curled and gathered in his thick moustache most admirably. 
During his violent sneezing and coughing, crooked and indis- 
tinct words, Cronie eseaped and began packing for the fish- 
ing trip. 

After tea they strapped the pole of the two wheeled calamity 
to the express wagon and hied them away just at the gloam- 
ing. It was a splendid night for the ride, the moon keeping 
them company from nine o'clock until it faded and was 
forgotten with the coming daylight, arriving at spring hill 
just in good time for cooking the breakfast. Spring hill is a 
cosy spot beside the main travelled road that runs through the 
forest within a few miles of their camp. A fine cool spring 
of good water beside a pretty camping ground, where many 
hold up to make a cup of tea, feed their horses, eat their 
luncheon, or pitch their tent for the night. Breakfast over, 
and the horse having eaten his oats, his head, much to his 
dislike is pulled up frorn the short grass which he is cropping, 



(j2 The Aroostook Woods. 

he is harnessed in again and they proceed on their journey. 
A fine road, the horse refreshed, they soon skip over the re- 
maining hills and valleys, arriving at the hunting camp long 
before noon. After dinner it is raining, so they employ the 
afternoon cleaning up and straightening out the camp. 

"Let it rain," says Joe; "who cares. AW- have a tight 
shingled roof over our heads, with an air space of four inches 
above it, with another roof of split cedar above that again, 
which should keep us dry surely." 

This way of roofing is beautifully cool in summer and just 
the daisy of a plan for snowy, icy winter. 

May 27th. Thev are up at four o'clock, have breakfast, and 
are quickly at work upon their garden, a small piece of land 
pretty thick with stumps, well decayed however. Uncle John, 
who came in with them to assist in cutting out the fallen trees 
from across the road, tarries with them until after dinner, 
and now takes hold to help them like the good fellow he is. 
They could hardly have accomplished the stumping part 
without his assistance, for which they heartily thanked him, 
voting him to be, as ever and always, one of the best of boys 
to them. 

Twelve o'clock, dinner over, Uncle John has just left w r ith 
their horse for his home, out on the main road (out to the 
States the lumbermen would say), and now they step out to 
view their small garden, all finished, planted and watered, for 
it has been a warm, dry, breezy morning and the soil is light. 
They hope to see the seeds sprouting before leaving for home 
again, and they gaze upon the small planted patch with much 
satisfaction, as it is something quite new for them to have a 
garden at the camp. A large part of potatoes, a patch of 
pole beans of the cranberry variety, half a dozen hills of 



Joe and Cronie. 93 



cucumbers and a small bed of onions. These last they 
found in the camp cellar where they had wintered without 
free/iny, having very yellow tops 'tis true, but soon take on a 
nice green after the wetting and the sun shines upon them. 
It all looks very inviting now in the small clearing. The 
cosv camp so snug and warm in winter, yet cool and pleasant 
in the warm spring time, with its; roomy porch (of which 
every sportsman thinks so much of) all open to the south, the 
well trodden path toward the spring of excellent cool water, 
which, winter or summer, is always just rigid. The spring 
house built over the incoming water, with its little cellar 
floored and walled with smooth, flat rocks, the water always 
heard trickling beneath them. This thev think much of, as 
"well as the clear, pebbly brook coursing down beside it all, 
with its corduroy bridge across, and the cedar split walk-way 
part way to camp. Perhaps on a dark day, at a time when 
three or four feet of snow had fallen upon the camp, nearly 
hiding it from view, one might chance to pass it when unoccu- 
pied and think it had a chilly, dreary, uninviting look ; but 
with the boys at home, the tall black stove-pipe raised above 
the roof, emitting its jolly clouds of smoke from beneath the 
hood upon its top, casting shadows that are ever moving and 
rolling over the white snow covered roof, slowly and curling, 
during the lull of the breeze, swift and straight across as 
the wind sw r eeps down from over the spruces just behind it. 
Ah ! then the chance passer by would admit it to be a cheery 
shelter. And now likely as not, and just at this time perhaps, 
as is often seen, "Bobby," the cute but theiving squirrel 
scampers to the highest peak of the snow covered porch, 
defying the smoke, and with his last piece of plunder in his 
little hands sits stuffing his nearly always distended cheeks. 



c>4 The Aroostook Woods. 

And the bright sunshine which always finds them if it is out 
calling, and is always lovingly received in winter, is the 
crowning point over their cabin home. As it rises in the 
morning they see its pleasant smile at the east dormer win- 
dow, and circling around it sends its warm rays in upon the 
tiers of newly cut and split hard wood piled in the shed, until 
they fairly crack, snap and groan from its power. Steadily 
on it moves, higher and more powerful, when at noonday in 
all its lovely warmth and brightness it is flooding in at the 
porch and doorway, which is often standing open in mid- 
winter, to admit its cheerful rays and pleasant company. 

But to return back to the garden, all smoothly finished. 
There is the old log stable with a goodly number of pieces 
of woodbine nicely growing, running up and soon to cover 
the south end, which is facing the garden, protecting it 
from the cold winds and reflecting the warmth of the sun 
directly upon it. The tall cedar bean poles standing in a 
square in front of the stable gives the place quite a civilized 
look. Upon the tallest in the centre a pretty bird has already 
perched himself and no doubt will locate here now, to pom- 
out his song morning and evening for them. A very pretty- 
little garden, and if it does well, — and why should it not, with 
our warm summer showers, the doctor will be pleased to step 
out and view the spot, and will enjoy much his favorite string 
and shell beans. 

''Pretty good for half a day," says Cronie, 

Stumps all out and rocks put to a good use at the foot, 
giving them the commencement of a stone wall, beside 
which Joe has planted some scarlet runnels; aren't they 
romantic ? 

"Well, good bye little garden," say they, as they pass by 



Joe and Cronie. 95 



it to the lake in the afternoon to try their new canoe boat. 

Arriving, they turn it over right side up and place it Eor 
the first time upon the water. First exclamation from Joe. 

" Cronie, isn't she a daisy?" 

"Correct you are, Joe, she is a darling daisy." 

And in the enthusiasm of the moment both exclaim in 
chorus: "dearest darlingest, daisiest daisy." At this happy 
outburst, no doubt the reader may smile, but they will not 
mind it just now, for their bonny boat called " 77/6' Same 
Please'" is just a perfect beauty. Not large, just large 
enough, all cedar, every part of it, the knees and stern pieces 
natural cedar crooks from the butts grown upon the lake 
shore. Sharp, both ends alike, and it paddles away over the 
water like a new eighteen foot birch bark canoe. 

"Sails well enough to suit even the Doctor," says Joe. 
" Not a bit cranky, and would carry half a dozen easily, 
but is just the thing for two or three." 

Joe, the happy builder, has surpassed himself in this his 
last boat — has proved himself an artist indeed. 

"Joe, we thank you, the Doctor and I," says Cronie. 
Joe now taking the oars and Cronie the light cedar paddle, 
that was made from the white sap part of a straight, tough 
and young cedar, they go skipping out upon the waves, the 
breeze driving back to the alders upon the shore the few early 
black flies which attempted to follow them, at zvhich they 
smile. On they go, merrily dancing, across the lake to one 
of their best fishing grounds and arrive all anxious, and ex- 
pecting a trout supper. Joe soaks his leaders and proceeds 
to switch with black gnat and brown hackle, and the little 
blue butterfly, but all to no purpose, not a rise. 

"Not one, Joe?" 



96 The Aroostook Woods. 

"Nary a one, Cronie." 

Cronie at last becoming disgusted with such luck takes his 
bait rod, and with three or four of his bright, red Aroostook an- 
gle worms, looped upon the hook in such a manner as to leave 
many heads and tails squirming about promiscuously, proceeds 
to prove to Joe that fly fishing is dudish, and the way our 
fore-fathers did is the proper way, notwithstanding. Soon 
he has the worms lightly touching the surface of the water, 
then down they go wriggling and squirming, looking very 
tempting he thinks, for some good trout, moves them 
up and down, draws them away from some imaginary fish, 
then lowers them back again, and finally wilts and gives it up. 
Not a bite ! They then put up the sail and run down to 
another noted chance, which Cronie remarks never fails. 

"What, never?" 

"Hardly ever, Joe." 

Here the sail is taken in and with the paddle the boat is 
moved cautiously to a good position beside the alders, just above 
an incoming brook, and here, after many moments of careful 
manouvering, the same result. Joe's choice selection of 
seductive flies, nor Cronie's Aroostook bright red angle worms 
can induce a trout to flop on board "The Same Please." Joe 
lays aside the fly rod, looks dreamily over the lake and asks: 

"What can we do now?" 

"Well, Joe, all we can do is to bid the lake a dczv, and as 
it will be sundown ere a long while, we will get back to 
camp. It is a fine side wind and we will have a jolly sail. 
In the morning we will come down to the lake again, get on 
board and try at the foot of the lake. The rains raise the 
brooks and the water is roily here ; they have gone down to 
quick water or to the lower part of the lake to escape more 



Joe and Cronie. 97 



turbid waters. This brings to mind an old saying, Joe." 

"What is it?" 

••After the rain go shoot a deer ; but before the rains go 
fishing." 

Next morning, May 2SU1, they are on board their bonny 
boat at five o'clock, for the morning is the best time to fish. 
Gliding down the lake with the south wind, all sail set, and 
a slackened sheet, they soon arrive at the narrows, when the 
wind being taken from them by the woodland, they furl up 
their wings and paddle to the outlet, where they leave their 
boat and walk down a little piece to quick water and the rips. 

Here, after a little, they are soon taking them, both with 
fly and worm, and fast enough to satisfy the most greedy of 
trout pigs. Here they find them in abundance and soon have 
a dozen or more of the finest sized ones lying side by side 
upon the rocky shore. As these are all they can use at the 
present, they stop fishing, yet a little reluctantly. How they 
wish they could send to their homes a dozen or two right 
from the stream, but they are far away and no quick convey- 
ance. 

"They are here to-day, Joe," says Cronie. 

"Yes, indeed they are. Should we tell of what we see 
swimming over these rips, they might remark that ' 'tis 
another fish story.' Well, we have caught enough for supper 
and breakfast, have we enough think you?" 

"Just to please yon, Joe, catch half a dozen more while 
I am preparing some of these clean shiny fellows for our 
dinner. The day before we leave for home we can kill all 
we want to carry with us, at any pool upon these quick 
waters." 

After dinner the trout for cam pare dressed, wiped dry, rolled 




u 



O 

I— I 

Ph 

o 
o 
u 

w 
w 



Joe axd Cronie. 99 



up in thin birch bark, and packed separately in the fishing 
baskets. A layer of moss at the bottom serves as a spring 
cushion tor them to rest upon, with moss between and over 
them, no two touching (rilling the baskets quite full with the 
moss;) there is no bruising if carried in this manner, and they 
get to camp dry and cool, which is the proper way. A dozen 
small fir boughs placed between the basket and shoulders 
serves ;is a cushion for the back, and gives the cool air a 
chance to circulate .between. As soon as they reach camp 
the trout are placed in the cool corner of their spring house 
cellar. 

They get an early start for camp after dinner. Leaving the 
boat behind at this point, they conclude to go to camp by the 
way of the old supply road which is quite a tramp, and con- 
sidered pretty gamey. A really good road to walk over, for 
such an old one (as usually these older roads are choked in 
many places with windfalls,) and a very pleasant road as it 
is so varied. They have no need, nor do they wish to hurry, 
but walk as leisurely as they can and keep moving along, 
enjoying the scene more from the slow sauntering gait. At 
first, starting away from the lake they pass through a very old 
camping ground that shows the well decayed logs, and very 
large pines for the bottom ones, and remnants of the hewn 
pine flooring, where once, a long time since, stood the lumber 
camp, where long, long since, the lumberman's axe was 
heard from peep of day until the shades of evening gathered 
thick around him. where, with the glow of health upon his 
cheek, in the pride of his strength, with a well-hardened 
muscle as he buried the sharp steel in the noble spruce or 
pine, upon the ridges on a clear, breezy day, the sounds could 
be heard plainly over the hills and far away for miles, but 



ioo The Aroostook Woods. 

dull and muffled, and reaching but a little distance from him, 
when every limb, bough, and twig had become weighed down 
to the breaking point with the soft damp snow. 

Here then stood his snug, warm house, where he returned 
each evening after his good day's work, often wet and hungry, 
but always w r ell, strong and hearty, to eat his supper of pork 
and beans with good strong black tea and hot ginger bread, 
usually topping off with dried-apple sauce. Then to grind 
his axe already for the morning, and after singing some of his 
best jolly songs for the boys in a free and easy manner, he 
tumbles into his own place on the fir or hemlock boughs and 
is asleep in five moments ; and such a good, resting sleep as he 
has, while the fat cook piles on the birch and maple logs. 
Nothing disturbs him after this, until four or half-past in the 
morning, when the cook suddenly breaks the quiet with his 
call, "turn out boys, breakfast." 

As they rise the first hill, they leave the pretty old camp 
ground behind them with the sun shining brightly upon the 
new growing grasses and enter a succession of dark, mossy 
hills and hollows. Little rocky bluffs they pass, close beside 
the mostly straight, yet sometimes winding road ; they can 
see them often in the dark distance on their left hand, showing 
bleached and a lighter gray on their south exposure, dark and 
mossy on their sides and north of them. Most of the soil and 
very rocky bottom is covered with white, green, gray and dark 
reddish brown moss, and so thick a mat, one might walk 
over it ever so carelesslv if creeping for a deer, without mak- 
ing any sound. Above all grows the tall, black spruces, 
their thick green tops touching and embracing each other, 
shutting out in most places nearly all the daylight, while 
before them and behind, as they are walking upon the upper 



Joe and Cronie. ioi 

long levels, they see and are travelling in a straight line of 
light and sunshine, over a carpet of green, gray and brown 
velvety mosses. Walking through these shady dells and hills 
in the spring time, on such a sunny, quiet afternoon as this, 
is a pleasure few could help but enjoy. 

Coming out again to broad open day and the full widened- 
out sunlight, they are standing upon the last rocky hill 
belonging to this dark shady upland, and looking down into 
another and deeper dell, but quite changed. Only a scatter- 
ing spruce or evergreen is now to be seen compared with the 
many behind them, while nearly every variety of the native 
hard woods are in view and mixed as evenly as if planted by 
the hand of man for a showing of the different kinds, large 
and largest, small and smallest, down to the tiniest seedling 
having only its first two leaves, and those in the form of the 
seed it sprung from, which some day and in some man's 
time, may grow to be the very monarch of the dell, reaching 
its arms high above all others toward the beautiful blue sky. 
Sitting upon the rocks a few moments before stepping down 
into the pretty sunlighted valley, they notice some of the many 
different kinds of hard woods ; the rock maple which is the 
curly and the bird eye, white and soft maple, yellow and w T hite 
birch, the very largest of these being the canoe birch ; the 
beech, upon which grow the fine nuts the deer love so well ; 
the ash, elm, moose wood, iron wood, cherry and others, 
while scattering about and upon the hillside and beyond, they 
see an occasional spruce and fir, with a very few hemlock. 

Here, this afternoon in the early summer, standing above 
the trees while they were all fairly mellow in the warm sun- 
shine, their young green leaves scarcely trembling in the 
faint breeze, they w r ere more beautiful than glossy satin, and 



io2 The Aroostook Woods. 

their sweet fragrance could be almost tasted in the air. Down 
the rocky descent they leave the mossy carpet behind them and 
their feet often grate upon the bleached granite instead. All 
through the dell the birds are chirping and singing, seeming 
to have chosen this cosy sheltered place in preference to the 
higher land to build their nests and rear their young. Thev 
climb the rise, which, like the bottom of the dell, is thickly 
covered with the old leaves that were only one year since as, 
elegant as those above, while here and there a fallen monarch, 
beautifullv mossed over, beside, and out of which, thick 
growths of vellow lurch are springing up very thriftily, 
enriched by the tree that has had its time, and now lies down 
upon the ground as food for those that follow. 

As thev reach the level again thev see and pass through the 
beech nut grove; not all beeches, but so many and such 
thrifty, stately trees standing in groups and so generously 
distributed over the ridge, that they feel justified in thus 
naming it. Here, in the fall time of a fruitful year for the 
beeches, and when the frosts have opened the burrs, and the 
blustering winds are sweeping through the branches, come 
the harvesters and the gatherers and later on the gleaners. 

Hearing the sweet rich nuts rattling down upon the dried 
leaves, thev hasten forward to the feast ; not the school bovs 
with happy shoutings, as this is too far away to hear the 
recess bell, but the many dwellers in the forest here. Young 
and old, large and small, those that wander all about the hills 
and ridges, through the leaves, that when dried thoroughly 
by a sunny morning, loudly rustle as they approach, and 
others that fly from tree to tree taking their choice of the 
choicest, before the feast has been spread out and distributed 
over the leafy covering for the large families that feed beneath 



Joe and Cronie. 103 



the trees. You see the leaves ploughed up in ridges, nosed 
over and trampled upon; this is "Bruin," he roots like a 
pig for them ; smaller spots, in plaees scraped clean of leaves 
is by the red deer. Both love them and continue to visit the 
groves, and scrape and root for them until after the fir^t 
snows. Fat old Mr. Bruin comes slowly trotting over the 
hills, making a spanking big track in the light snow, a third 
larger than his foot really is, his toes and claws showing 
plainly if a damp, light snow. 

The porcupine is often the first to be seen in the early 
morning after his breakfast. He climbs to the top of the tree, 
and there sitting in the fork of a limb, reaches out and draw- 
ing in an armful of twigs containing the ripest and best, and 
hugging them to his breast, he chews away at his quiet 
leisure, merely blinking and twinkling his small, bead-like, 
black eyes, when the old screaming blue jay grows the most 
excited and indignant at his piggishness. Both the porcu- 
pine and squirrel commence to eat them much before the 
regular harvest, and soon the blue jay takes the hint and is 
picking open the burrs, and next the partridges. 

As they are slowly walking down from the beeches, Joe a 
little behind, something large is seen to wheel quickly and 
face toward them. Cronie steps quickly behind a tree, noti- 
fying J oe D y gi ym g two low calls of the blue jay. He 
understands, gets a glance of it and it is gone. There was 
but little or no wind ; about ten or twelve rods down the 
road stood a cow moose looking up at them. Joe for the 
first time in his life sees a live moose in the woods, but only 
to get a short peep of her when she trotted down the hill out 
of sight. "Oh, " said Joe, "how I should like to get a line 
view of that moose." So they crept along very quietly a 



1 04 The Aroostook Woods. 

piece down the road, watching, each side, thinking very likely 
they would have another sight of her in some spot off the 
road. Sure enough, in a moment or two thev heard a 
rustling" on the left of them, when she showed up beautifully, 
standing upon a knoll quite still, looking at them several 
seconds, then trotting away again out of sight. This time 
thev had a clear view of the cow moose standing not nunc 
than twelve rods away and upon elevated ground. She had 
changed her old winter coat of long, thick and coarse hair, 
with which they present a rough ami shaggy exterior in early 
spring, for a new coat of fine, satin finish, which was very 
short ami a shining black, and having become quite 
fat again, upon the quantity of new and tender browse 
everywhere growing for them, her round, smooth body was a 
picture. Xo jumps did she make, not being at all frightened, 
merely startled, and trotted off at her leisure. As they walk 
along, Joe exclaims again and again, tk Oh! Oh! wasn't she 
a black, glossy beauty ; don't the)- trot grandly." 

They continue on to camp without meeting with anything 
else worthy of note, excepting a baby porcupine. He was 
sitting near the top of a young sugar maple, eating the young- 
leaves, with his quilly tail hanging staight downward, look- 
ing very comical indeed, as he stopped his eating upon seeing 
them beneath him, and drew down his head and shoulders 
until he was half his length in appearance, remaining per- 
fectly motionless, with his black eyes ever on them. At first 
glance at the porcupine, one might take him to be a large 
bird, sporting a long tail, as Joe remarked to him, that he 
hail altogether too much tail for his wings, his small, black, 
bead like eyes twinkling innocently as they looked him over, 
but not harming him, nor wishing for his fur, as it is not the 
most elegant kind, if smoothed the wrong way. 



Job and Cronie. 105 



May 29th. Up in the morning just as it is coming day. 
They make a fire in the cook-stove, put on the coffee and open 
the camp door to listen to the song-birds. Finding the choir 
is about to tune up for another morning's concert, they step 
out and take a seat almost among them. One of the squirrels 
barks at Joe, which Joe understands and throws him a piece 
of doughnut ; this he jumps for and gets, running off with it 
chattering on the way "good for one song only." 

Soon the wood robin commences his whistling and his 
"chat!" "chat!" and is soon joined by the choir, one by 
one, as they awake and gather around the camp, all joyously 
welcoming with apparent praise and gladness another fine 
summer morning. The white-throated song sparrow in the 
distance is again adding his happy song, and we hear him plain 
and clear in his pretty calls constantly this morning, and as 
he is heard all over the county. We hear him often when 
sitting engaged in our fishing, and dearly love his pleasant 
song and company. Every little while through the morning 
and evening he is telling us something like this: " I see see 
se teetatee teetatee te — ," and again, "I see e — " lengthen- 
ing out his notes, sweet and very clear. The moose birds, 
crossbills, finches and chickadees fly almost in the camp to 
get the crumbs they throw out to them. The humming bird, 
which is seldom seen here in the forest, has found the clear- 
ing and tarries in the sunny place, often alighting on the 
bean poles, looking cunningly around the garden. They 
hardly suppose he as yet knows of the goodly quantity of 
scarlet runners and other blossoms which they are promising 
him in the sweet bye and bye, in the garden. A pair of cute 
little brown wrens with tails as straight up as usual, are 
building their nest in a brush pile near the woodshed, Joe 



io6 The Aroostook Woods. 

promises them a bird-house for another year, for they are pretty 
and interesting company, and should have a tight roof over 
them for their nesting plaee. Lastly, but not the least by 
many a chittering chatter, is their ever present company, the 
chickaree ; the red squirrels are constantly saucily scampering 
in and out, and all about their feet, as independent as they 
please, as they have been too much humored. One in partic- 
ular was often in disgrace while the boys were at the 
camp, for his theiving and impudence, and now is carrying 
the Captain's private mark with him, until his last skip over 
to the happy hunting grounds. For a more serious theft than 
usual, they one day decided he must die, and as he ran up a 
tall spruce, stopping a moment to chatter back at them, the 
Captain fired a rifle shot, cutting off his tail smooth and clean, 
within an inch of his hips. He would not lire again but 
granted him a pardon for all former offences. He is now 
quickly recognized and is known as " Bobby, the thief." 

After breakfast they decide to make another trip to the lake 
and to go by the way of the old road again, having hopes of 
seems: once more something interesting in the way of large 
game. But they are not as fortunate as the day before, yet 
have a very pleasant trip. Frequently, as they stroll along, 
the joyous, happy drummer is heard, at times very close to 
them, but more often from afar back in the forest. This 
they are pleased to hear as it is an assurance of man} - birds 
still living, and building their nests to rear flocks of young for 
the fall shooting. Passing by the knoll upon which stood the 
cow moose the day before, they saw her tracks, which are so 
similar to the domestic cow's, but she is not to be seen this 
day, apparently. Perhaps standing upon a similar ridge 
many miles away, for like the caribou they are wanderers, 



Joe and Cronie. 107 



ranging over much territory but often returning to and tarry- 
ing a short while in some loved spots which are the most like 
home to them. This ridge, and the little knoll whereon stood 
the moose, they will always remember as where they saw an 
interesting sight; a glossy, black wild moose in the early 
summer time. The birds are merrily singing as they again 
pass through the beeches and the dell, and the bluejay as 
usual is screaming, as if the sentinel guarding the grove, and 
continues his scolding until they enter the sombre shades of the 
dark green trees and step again upon the mossy bottom of the 
rocky woodland. When half way through, a large owl is seen 
sitting upon a spruce limb, but makes quickly off before they 
get too near him as there is but little sun to dazzle his eyes in 
this dark, mossy retreat. Out of the spruces and down past 
the old camp ground and they 11 re soon at the quick waters, 
the rips and pools again, capturing the trout that are easily 
deceived and taken in the rapid water. Only a dozen or so 
are killed as the w r eather is warm, when these are dressed and 
cared for in the basket, when they walk up to their boat, 
which they find as they left it. Getting on board they paddle 
up the outlet to the lake and the broad water, when Joe 
proposes a voyage of discovery around the shores of the lake, 
running as near land as possible to find and interview all the 
incoming brooks, and to observe and note whatever they can 
see and find of interest on the way. To this Cronie gladly 
assents as it just meets his own wishes. They are here in a 
good time to find the small spring brooks as they are running 
full and telegraph their whereabouts with merry trickling as 
they enter the lake. 

After an hour or more they land upon a mossy point which 
rises some six or eight feet above the lake and then the level 



10S The Aroostook Woods. 

woodland is seen, far inland. Here upon the mossy bank 
and point is an otter playground and sliding; as it is not in 
season for trapping the otter they are not at all careful about 
stepping upon, or walking over their works and examine with 
much interest their playground. They see where the otter 
walk up from the water to their playground to the head of the 
slide, around rather than over the slide, then tarrying at the play- 
ground, they frolic and play about, over a small piece of 
ground, scratching and pawing up the moss and small sticks 
in little heaps, before sliding down, plump ! into the water 
again. 

"They have been here during the last rain," says Joe. 

" Correct, and will be most likely to visit their circus ground 
during the next storm," adds Cronie. "A few left, as yet, 
but they do not increase as fast as one could wish, and which 
to the trapper and sportsman is a regret and not pleasant to 
be assured of. And should we hear the regular trapper com- 
plain of this, we may say to him, as the little brother said to 
the elder one, 4 Johnny, your pie can't last if you take such 
biff bites.' " 

Here they now build a fire a piece away from the otter's 
slide, make a cup of tea and have their dinner. A large bird 
of the crane family being on the marsh, a little way down the 
wind, is disturbed by their smoke and gives them an exhibi- 
tion of those sounds from which he has gained the name 
(among hunters) of tk Stake Driver," as the sounds are much 
like driving a stake into the earth. "Ah-k-chunk! — Ah-k- 
chunk." A peculiar sound for a bird, and to Cronie's surprise 
Joe asks : 

"What in the world is that?" 

Cronie allows his dinner to get cold while giving Joe 



Joe and Cronie. 109 



a description of the bird, and how he is acting at the time 
of giving such sounds ; that he raises his head as he sounds 
the Ah ! Ah ! then thrusts it well out and downward, 
as if to stab a frog with his long sharp bill, as he makes the 
sounds " k chunk." Joe quietly informs Cronie, as near as he 
can make out by his mumbling words, — for both his fat cheeks 
are well rounded out with broiled trout and j\fa7is?ir , s 
Boston butter crackers, that he has seen them often down in 
his grandpa's meadow, beyond the old meadow hay barn. 

Dinner over, they resume their cruise along the shores. 
Passing slowly, close in under the trees, they see a pair of 
porcupines trot or rather waddle along on the bank, one close 
behind the other, looking as usual so very comical, they must 
again laugh at them, at which they look not their way at all, 
nor pay the least attention to them whatever, but roll and 
wag along on their short, fat legs, supporting their short, 
round, puffed-out bodies, their thick, quilly tails sticking quite 
straight out behind, the quills upon them and upon their 
backs all pointed upward. Small heads and little, black eyes 
that were looking only straight ahead, for they were minding 
their own business, and trotted back along the shore by 
which the boat had just passed, and so near they could have 
been reached with a fishing pole, and when first sighted they 
were taken for little cub bears. Even in the deep wildwood, 
among the animals, we discover human traits, for from the 
porcupine we learn that man is not the only animal that may 
become so deeply infatuated as to be oblivious to all else but 
his courtship. 

After noting the quill pig promenade and wishing them 
much joy on their wedding tour, they step on shore and find 
a cool spring, for which they are always thankful, as a 



iio The Aroostook Woods. 

cool drink of nice water is ever in order on their travels. 
They cut off a sprout high up as they can reach, and place 
upon it an empty condensed milk can to be used as a dipper, 
when they or others shall pass by again. This the boys 
have frequently done in their cruisings over the old roads and 
upon the line wherever nice water is passed, so many are 
distributed about the forest. As they pass the mouth of the 
brook running in at a deep cove, Joe, with his flies, takes a 
few small trout and one fine one, that gives him lots of 
pleasure, lights up his face, and causes him to crow just a little 
bit. Coming to the peninsula of pines, they this time pass 
over its very narrow neck close to the main land, instead of 
paddling far around as usual, the high stage of water now 
admitting. 

Here along the shore is quite a feeding ground for the deer, 
and at a low stage of water shows much water-grass that 
thev love. Passing over in the canoe boat a few of the rush- 
es brush its sides which is all the noise they are making. As 
they shoot out to view upon the waters of the cove a splash- 
ing is heard, and as quickly as it is, upon their left hand near 
the shore, a handsome doe deer is seen for an instant standing 
still, head up, looking at them wildly, turns her head half 
round, looks toward the shore and low bushes, and quickly 
jumps among them and is out of sight. Then sounds are 
heard of her lamb, when the mother quickly answers; more 
jumping is heard, and they soon see mother and fawn both 
wildly leaping through the shoal water over the narrow neck 
the boat had just passed, hurrying to the main land, the 
mother leading, the little spotted fawn close behind. As they 
reach the woods they hear a few sounds from them and all is 
quiet. Could they see the deer once more at this moment, 



[ok and Cronie. Ill 



they would be seen facing them with fixed attention. The 
voyagers now skirting around the shore of the cove earnestly 
scan the formation of the land, watching for a depression in 
the growth of the timber and have an eye out for the alders 
along shore, as they are anxious to find in this vicinity a cool 
brook which they have been told of, but which up to the 
present time has not been discovered, even after much seek- 
ing for. At last, after patient listening and watching, they 
are rewarded by the sound of running water, and are quickly 
on shore upon a tour of inspection. 

" Cronie, we have found it, sure ! " 

This is the mysterious brook, hidden entirely from one 
passing by water, as it runs mostly under ground, unless at a 
high stage of water, when it runs over into the lake. Cold 
and nice, and apparently having two branches that join just 
back of the sea wall of the lake ; two beautiful spawning 
brooks running from away over the hills, we know not as yet 
how far, but must in the fall explore with rifle at easy rest, 

For it has such gamey looks, 

Up between these two spring brooks. 

Taking the hunting axe from the canoe, they cut a slashing 
entrance from the shore to the cool water, and hang upon the 
stub of a branch another, their last milk can, which shows 
itself brightly shining when they are far away upon the lake 
again. 

" Such conspicuous marking was unnecessary perhaps, ' 
says Joe, kt but we are going to find that brook the next time, 
if at noonday, sure." 

Taking a long draught of the sweet brook water, they move 
on toward the end of their cruise, the head of the lake. 
They point the boat toward the inlet and directly in their 



ii2 The Aroostook Woods. 

course is a shoal place, or bar, out in the lake, from which 
rises out of the water a solitary rock, oval upon its top, with 
a small bit of growth upon it. As they are approaching it, 
a handsome white gull flies to meet them, hovering over their 
heads and then away again, then back, giving its little cry in 
the gull dialect, then circling around, hovers over them, say- 
ing to them plainly, "Go not this way if you please, but 
keep off, as I am trying to lead you." These pretty, pure 
white gulls are another interesting feature which adds to the 
beautiful picture, besides they being rare with them, are the 
more prized. 

44 Last year there was only one," said Joe, "and no doubt 
some idiot shot its mate in mating time. I will bet the 
lemonade, that upon the rock ahead there is a gull's nest, and 
I never saw one in all my life." 

Sure enough, before stepping out they could see a low rude 
nest, made of moss, sticks and mud, and in it were three very 
large eggs, nearly as large as hen's eggs, which surprised 
them much, looking at the size of the bird. The eggs were 
a dark drab color, spotted with black. The birds did not 
make much ado after all at their landing, but both followed 
them closelv for a piece after heaving the rock, when the 
female flew back to the nest, the male following the boat, 
often hovering over them with a low cry and riving on ahead 
aeain, as if still anxious they should be led far from his 
treasures. 

Onlv a gull's nest. That's all, yet they would have 
paddled a mile out of their way rather than have missed see- 
ing this one. An oval, almost bare rock, lying out alone by 
itself in the lake, some eight or ten feet in diameter, nearly 
round, a few bunches of moss growing upon the north side, 



n 
> 






r. 
i 



W3 

SI 
n 




ii4 The Aroostook Woods. 

with a small bunch of hard-hack and three small dwarfed 
spruces the only protection from the northerly winds. Upon 
the highest part of the rock, in the center, the very rude nest 
and the three odd colored eggs is kept warm while the mother 
bird is away by the sun warming up the granite, and at 
night and morning, cold days and rainy ones, by the mother 
bird. Respected by the loons as they wish no such place for 
themsehes when they can find the hidden chances, as close as 
this to the water. 

As they homeward to the landing drift slowlv along, Joe 
again is switching in a few clean silyery trout. "Those little 
choice ones," he says, and Cronie is pleased to hear him 
expatiate again, and often. 

May 30th. The last morning of the trip ; the alarm of the 
clock goes off with a whiz and a whir — r — 

tw What do you say, Joe, it's three o'clock." 

"All right, Cronie, if we go oyer upon the other side and 
get to sleep again I fear we will be rather late at white water 
rips." 

The coffee is soon steaming, some thin slices of Swift's 
bacon are approaching too near a crisp point and are set off 
upon the stoye hearth ; these haying already scented the 
camp porch, as the door stands wide open, are attracting the 
birds and squirrels as usual. Bobby, the thief, is chased in 
oyer the door stool by one of his big brothers and sits upon 
his stumpy tail and haunches holding up his hands and eyeing 
Joe wonderingly as he listens to his lively "tin tintilations"( ?) 
made with a tin tea spoon and a half pint dipper (Joe was 
beating an egg for to-morrow morning's coffee) but he skips 
out again lively as Joe shies his slipper toward him, not stop- 
ping until he regains the roof, where he barks and chatters 



Joe and Cronie. i 15 



out his disgust for such landlords. The eggs for their break- 
fast, and enough also to carry with them for dinner, have 
been boiling twenty-five minutes, and Joe now speaks the word 
"breakfast!" 

Just at four o'clock, a little dark and cloudy, but no very 
positive signs of rain, they throw the straps of the fishing 
baskets over their shoulders, one packed with dinner for two, 
the other containing a variety of fishing particularities, and 
strike out for the "elysium," white water rips. Over the 
ridges, by the edges of the swamps, leaping the small brooks, 
then walking the old down pine as they cross the brook again 
beyond, on up the rise then through the fir and spruce groves 
so dark and shady, where the squirrel is always seen, and 
where for winter he gathers many cones, and the sable and 
fisher come visiting with no good intentions toward him, 
Down again and. through the strip of burned land now grown 
up thickly with small white birches, little dwarfed firs and wild 
cherry, then through a prettv grove of tall white birches, often 
flushing the grouse, who before he takes to wing will elevate 
his feathers, saying "pletes, pletes, pletes," which means, 
"dang it, I am not at all pleased with your intrusion." 
Always keeping upon the trail they had spotted, or blazed 
years before, and partly underbrushed, that they might hasten 
quickly on at times when they wished, without too many 
stumbles and sudden sit-downs, coming out at last upon the 
same stream where they had been fishing the previous days, 
several miles farther down to follow the stream, yet nearer to 
camp because of its winding way. 

They find here at this time in the season, good fishing on 
the swift waters, and in an hour their baskets are full. Sitting 
down at the edge of the pool they dress, wipe dry and pack the 



1 1 6 The Aroostook Woods. 

trout in the usual manner. And now by adding a few flat 
rocks they completed a snug little cave that nature had nearly 
finished for them, close beside the little spring, and place 
therein the baskets of trout, while they make a short journey 
over the ridge to the wild cranberry bog and inspect as to the 
prospect for berries when they come again in the fall for the 
regular outing. Returning to the rips again, they sit down 
to luncheon with appetites well sharpened by the tramp ; so 
much so that a pair of moose birds which had called upon 
them were not invited to partake, after which they seemed 
to give lower, sad and mournful notes longer than usual, 
which affects Joe visibly, and he promises next time not 
to forget them. After a quiet smoke they straighten up and 
prepare for the homeward march, again over the trail. First 
they enjoy a good long draught from the almost icy trickle 
that comes tinkling in from between the rocks at the side of 
the stream, filling to the brim and running over their little 
excavation with the clearest, purest water. Then they look 
lovingly away up the stream, upon the rushing water, dotted 
with many a well-known boulder, and upon the" rips, and 
then upon the silent, though deep moving waters before 
them, with smiling thankfulness for what they have often as 
now afforded them. Pretty, cheery river, even though they 
leave you far behind, you are not forgotten ; the} will think 
of you many times and often, and though the actual sound of 
the happy, laughing voices of your bright and pretty waters 
do not reach their ears in reality, vet they will often hear 
you just the same, and always love you ; and now as they 
turn their faces from you around toward the camp and koine, 
they feel they change to rather a sombre hue, and mirrored m 
the spring they show a cheerless look at parting from you. 



Joe and Cronie. i i 



They lift the baskets and start upon the promenade, turning 
their backs, decided to look no more upon the stream when 
it's so "all alive," yet they turn when upon the higher land, 
and cannot help stopping once more to look back just a 
moment and say good bye to the now sunlighted waters, and 
then plunge manfully on for the old blazed spruce that shows 
the entrance to the trail and are back to camp in time to pack 
what they wish to haul home with them, snug up the hunting 
lodge once more, and have a half hour to spare, wdiich they 
devote to further improving their little garden. Then their 
horse is sent in for them and they are soon on their way home, 
where they arrive the next morning, tired a little and sleepy 
too, but well enough to saw wood. 



A LITTLE BEAR HUNT. 



SHOOTING an animal through the heart is not always 
immediate death as some might suppose, for they 
frequently run quite a distance before falling. Often the 
sportsman having made this sure death shot, he may think he 
has missed altogether, as he sees the animal running away to 
some handy cover, where if left to itself and not followed up 
too quickly and noisily, would likely be found handy by in 
the first good hiding chance, lying dead. On the other hand, 
if hastening after it the game hears you now quicker than 
usual, and the wounded animal keeps bounding away through 
the thickest chances as long as any life is left, and likely now 
it escapes the hunter altogether, dropping dead at last, to be 
found by the meat eating fellows (the carnivora) who now 
have a most glorious feast, leaving nothing at last but the 
larger bones of the animal, which are also eaten entirely after 
becoming softened bv the snows, by a myriad of mice which 
are everywhere living in the forest. If we could shoot the 
bear directly through the centre of his skull or immediately 
behind its ear (and all other large game as well) it would be 
the proper shot, humane, and the most creditable, for this is 



A Little Bear Hint. 119 

instant death. Now we know why we do not often risk this 
shot, unless the game is very handy to us ; it is because if he 
does not have the wind of us and is not much startled, we are 
expecting him in a moment (always provided we stand as 
motionless as the tree bodies themselves) to gradually with- 
draw his eyes from us, and looking around to the way from 
whence he came, partly, or wholly present his broadside to us 
half a moment just before jumping away. 

With some companions we were paddling our canoe 
noiselessly up a still water, listening intently for those sounds 
that always indicate the close proximity of game. 

"To-day," remarked a cronie, "we will not be particular, 
as we are hungry for meat, so let it be moose, deer, caribou, 
bear, porcupine or musquash, in fact anything eatible, for we 
will not return to camp without the wherewith for a broil or 
a smother." - 

When far up the quiet winding stream we caught those 
sounds that we wished to hear, the breaking of small decay- 
ing branches upon the ground, and they seemed breaking 
beneath the tread of some heavy animal. My companions 
pushed the canoe ashore quietly, and we stepped toward the 
place the sounds came from, avoiding the many partly 
decayed alders upon the shore, which make such sharp 
cracklings, and stooping low, to save our eyes from the thick 
growing twigs and climbing vines, we crept through to a 
little clearing handy by. It was an old lumber landing with 
grassy spots scattered here and there, but mostly grown up to 
large brakes, with many a small fir bush mixed in. Getting 
out of the shore growth of alders into this little sunny paradise 
of a chance for many kinds of game< when situated in the midst 
of the thick woods, we were just in time to see an old bear 



[20 THE A.ROOSTOOK Woods. 

with owe cub leaping away out of range and For the woods 
beyond. A little disappointed, and knowing it was useless 
to follow as they had the wind from us, we were about to 
turn for the canoe when we espied another well grown cub thai 
had just taken the hint oi danger, making off obliquely for 
the same direction. We gave this follow a shot that passed 
through the lower half of his heart, when he tumbled over, 
but was quickly up again and bounding away faster than 
before. We gave chase, thinking he could run but a very 
little wax, slipping in another cartridge as we ran. lie was 
soon out oi sight in t ho brakes, but his snarly ba I arah 3 ba! 
ah! ah] gave us the right direction, ami we expected every 

moment to pick up the cub and return to the canoe. At this 

time we were using a single shot rifle o( light calibre and 
really was not anxious to be interviewed by big mother bruin 
under existing circumstances, but we wanted some cub steak 
and took our chances. Keeping our eyes open as we ran and 
just as we came out into another open place, we saw by the 
quickly moving brakes ahead of us that we must stand firm 

just where w e were and be ready for the sure and instant 
death shot through the skull, or perhaps take a scratching, 
for the old bear, hearing the cries of the cub was coming 
straight for us as we could see by the black bounding rump 
among the tall brakes, but no sine chance good for a shot. 
When within thirty feet of us, her jaws snapping, eyes 
full o{ tire, and showing the whitest o( teeth, she was very 
near the edge of the little grassy space in which we were 
standing. But in place of showing herself plainly to our 
view ami standing up Facing us, as is generally their way, thus 
giving a fair shot at the heart, or even approaching clear of 
the brakes, and halting a moment to intimidate us, with 



A Little Bear Hint. 121 

gnashing her white teeth, she whirled and away upon seeing 
us, as quickly as she came, and ran again toward the cub. 
The boys now hurrying up from the canoe we followed the 
trail made plainer by the old one, while we frequently imitated 
the ba — arah — ah ! of the cub, to decoy her back to us once 
more, when again she madly rushed toward us, but as quickly 
bounced away without giving us a shot. Soon we came upon 
the black glossy prize lying beneath a tree that had fallen 
across an old logging road. The cub had run over three 
hundred yards after having been shot through the lower half 
of his heart. 

Most animals that rush toward you do not have the courage 
to attack, and nearly all quail and turn away at the steady 
look of the eye when one stands firm and faces them. And 
now my young sportsmen, if such you are, may I tell you 
that at a time like this you will be as cool as if you were 
going to shoot a rabbit, for it is something that clears your 
brain of everything else but that steady shot. You will 
forget to quake with fear or tremble at danger. Not that we 
would for a moment counsel you to seek for any dangerous 
chances ; on the contrary always have it in mind that you 
should always seek to avoid them. But should you meet them 
in a case like this, the first chill of fear you may have vanishes 
as quickly as you percieve the angry eyes looking in your 
own. It flashes to you instantly that you surely must now 
try titles as to which is the superior, man or brute. And 
quicker than I can write one word of this little hunt, if you 
know your rifle and have it ready for the shot, your nerves 
are as if like iron, your rifle, even if usually heavy, now 
comes up like a feather weight, seeming to steady itself just 
on the level line, while your bullet crashes right through the 



T 7 

1 w - 



The Aroostook Woods. 



brain, just where you are sure to aim, and your would-be 
enemy drops and quivering dies in its very tracks. Then 
perhaps, when all seeming danger is passed, the trembles 
may come for a moment when you could hardly shoot a 
chickadee with fine bird shot. 



TRAPPING THE OTTER. 



BLACK and shining as an otter, is an expression often 
used, and it comes to mind when on our cruisings we 
occasionally see him upon the banks of pure white snow 
beside the stream. His fur is of the finest and most valuable. 
We believe he is the handsomest fellow to a trapper's think- 
ing, of the whole furry tribe. The trapper is always much 
elated to find one in his trap, when it is set upon the land, 
his beautiful fur showing its fine silky richness, as he rolls 
over, doubles up and twists about. Long, strong and a very 
supple animal, low set upon his short and strong legs, of the 
firmest build altogether and very heavy for his size, it takes a 
thorough made trap to hold him, especially if caught upon 
the land. The swivel must work free and he must have a 
chance to swing around in, quite a little space, or in his 
gymnastic performance he may twist himself free from the 
trap if he is a large one. 

As it is now, we will say, just the time for their fur to be 
getting dark and rich, nearly prime, we will take the canoe 
and paddle down to minnow brook and set two or three traps. 
There are indications of rain, which is what we like imme- 



I 2 4 



The Aroostook Woods. 



diately after setting the traps for otter. In the first, we will 
open the jaws of our traps here on the shore and have them 
ready to place "on arriving at the brook, as we wish to tramp 
about as little as possible upon their chosen play ground, for 
they are keen scented fellows and it takes but a little disturb- 
ance to cause them to desert a play ground for a time. Take 
the light hunting axe and the water pail, which we shall need 
to dip the water to wet our tracks above, upon their play 
ground, after setting the traps there, and this will wash down 
any scent left behind us. We require no stakes to drive 
down to hitch to, as this is a dead fast, which is not a good 
plan in trapping any animal. They should have a chance to 
move around instead of being assisted by a dead fast to pull 
or twist out. 

Arriving at the little brook and the otters' sliding chance, 
we see that they have been playing upon the ground quite 
lately, as along each side of the slide (which here is only ten 
or twelve feet, extending from their playground to the water) 
we see little sticks, twigs, leaves and moss which have been 
recently brushed aside by their breasts and their fore legs 
under them as they go scooting down from their playground 
upon the elevation, plump into the water at times, and just for 
fun apparently. Then in going back up the bank to the top 
again, they walk around to one side, seldom if ever, climbing 
up by the smooth place they have made in scooting down, but 
choosing the easier road around, often sliding down in quick 
succession, then back one after the other, having a romp with 
each other upon the elevation, then walking to the head of 
the down grade, place their fore legs immediately underneath 
and slide down upon knees and breasts as before. 

We will drop down below their works before landing and 



Trapping the Otter. 125 

do our chopping- where it will not be seen by them, cut our 
spruce poles six or eight feet long and the proper size, to slip 
the ring of the chain over the larger end of the pole. Now 
slip on the rings and wedge or wire them securely. Having 
them all ready to place, we will walk well around and 
approach the slide from the back of their works at the top of 
their mossy knoll. High ! their works show they have lots 
of fun up here ; only see the little dry sticks broken up fine, 
moss, leaves and turf clawed up in little heaps. 

We will reach over upon their playing spot, here at the 
rear, cut out a square place for the trap and place it bearing 
solid and level with the upper surface. Lay the pole down 
with the newly cut end hidden by moss, and tie the small and 
and outer end securely to a small tree, or stand it up beside 
one, fastening the upper end, giving them a good chance to 
swing around when caught. Shake over the trap to cover 
nicely, moss and leaves from their own works, break a bunch 
of boughs for a whisk, and from the pail of water sprinkle 
all most thoroughly, and step back wetting all tracks we have 
made handy by, and we are ready to place the other traps in 
nearly the same manner, again well around, and approaching 
near the head of the slide, place a trap on the playground 
within a foot of the slide, beginning in the same manner as 
before. And now, if his roundabout path is plain to be seen, 
showing as well, just where he leaves the water, to walk up 
to the top, then set the trap just where he stops swimming, 
and walks to land ; placing the trap a trifle to one side of his 
path, as his legs are wide apart, and have a little forethought 
as to rise and fall of water, which would depend upon the 
weather. 

A Xo. 4 trap is good to place here, in the water upon the 



126 The Aroostook Woods. 

shore, for though seeming heavy, when No. 3 would proba- 
bly hold most any otter, this is heavy and drowns them as 
soon as they plunge to deepest water which they always will 
do. But if a light trap is used, a rock may be attached to 
the chain, to keep the otter under water. Set all traps bear- 
ing level, always. Sometimes one must dig out a little for 
them, and nearly always we find it necessary to place a flat 
stone or a piece of bark beneath one of the jaws to insure 
against its tipping when the animal does not step plump upon 
the pan of the trap. Have a pole attached to the ring of the 
chain, the same when set in the water, as upon the land, and 
perhaps longer, when the water may be shoal. This may be 
laid along the edge of the stream upon the shore, the end 
fastened, allowing free chance for the otter to plunge out to 
deep water, when he quickly drowns. 

Again, say it is very cold weather, and all is frozen over 
and we can see no signs of the otter above water, but you 
remember having seen at the mouth of some brook, even if a 
very small one, perhaps, where they were passing up and 
down when it was not frozen and it was out of season for 
catching them. This they are often doing beneath the ice as 
well, often crowding in at the mouth of a brook, where there 
seems little room for a mink. Cut out the ice here in the 
best place you can decide upon, making a hole large enough 
to work in handy, and place the trap nearly in his passing 
way, which is midway for the small channel cf the brook, as 
he is aiming for the centre of the stream and its deepest 
water; push down a few dry sticks, chance permitting, upon 
each side of the trap to guide him directly over it, arranging 
to have the trap in water deep enough, so that when freezing 
over again there will yet be sufficient room for the otter to 



Trapping tii e Otter. i 27 

pass easily over the trap. And for this chance for setting the 
trap, have a pole small enough for the ring to slip from its 
top to the bottom of it, where there should be left, a stub of a 
branch to keep it from slipping off entirely. Push the pole 
down beside the trap expecting it to freeze in, yet tie the top 
end in case of a thaw. 

Often a chance is seen where they can be caught upon the 
land when crossing from one stream to another separated by 
short distances, or leaving a small stream when approaching 
its outlet and travelling across a point of land, rather than 
follow its further windings, swimming among, and over 
tangled roots and low growing alders. Tracing their path 
from this stream to the most suitable level spot, we may lay two 
old logs at right angles, one upon each side of their path for 
a fence, leaving just room enough between the ends for the 
trap and three inches to spare, in order to have the pan of the 
trap a little to one side. Upon the logs lay on some old 
brush the length of them. Coming to this they wrinkle their 
nose and snuff for danger, but scent nothing after a rain, and 
as they dislike to climb over if they can crawl under or walk 
through, they keep on right over the trap, thinking it is all 
right as the}' are frequently meeting with blow downs on 
their travels. Here also they must have a chance to swing 
round, or the tip-up, or spring-pole must be arranged for 
them as for the fisher. 

The otter have been known to catch and eat our wild ducks, 
both young and old, and are fond of the young musquash, as 
we have seen at different times on a still water stream, ample 
proof of their eating them, upon their playing places and 
fishing chances, on the points of the stream, usually upon the 
opposite side to the mnskrats' grounds. 



128 The Aroostook Woods. 

It is a simple thing for this supple fellow, that can swim 
down the trout so easily, to slide into the water from his fish- 
ing point and swimming well down underneath, rise and 
seize a wild duck by its legs, drag it under, and return to his 
point below, or hidden in the bushes, make a fine meal from 
its meat for a change. Its sleeping chance is often near the 
little falls or rapids, where the water remains open nearly all 
the winter, though it finds ample chances for a cosy night's 
lodging when on its travels, beneath the roots of the old stubs 
and large dead trees along the banks of the quick water 
streams. It is frequently in winter making journeys from one 
quick water to another, striking across through the woods, 
over the shortest and most direct way, and arriving exactly 
on the line to the noisy rapid. Sometimes straight over the 
ridges, in place of winding around, although it is a very poor 
climber up hill. If the snow is not deep enough at such a 
time for him to dive under and hide away from you, or escape, 
he may be caught on ascending or level ground, but he gets 
away lively when on the down grade, as he knows how to 
slide down hill to perfection, leaving the pursuer far behind, 
though at his best gait. When the lakes and streams are 
frozen over and the weather is cold, he is under the ice and 
often on his beat, even then ; and fishing as he goes, coming 
to the ice often to renew his breath when between chances for 
landing beneath the ice, often travelling a piece beneath the 
banks of snow and ice where it is raised up, or a passage for 
him when the water has fallen off from the stream, giving 
him even dry chances, and room enough to run about at will, 
hidden from our view in the coldest weather. But he is soon 
out again and upon the surface of the snow and ice early on 
a warm morning, and during the middle part of warm, sunny 



Trapping the Otter. 129 

days, making journeys and playing outside during and after 
mild snow storms, yet always getting safely under before it 
freezes, seeming to know just where he can push through to 
open water beneath the snow. 

Well along in the month of March, in the Aroostook valley, 
when we have frequent light falls of snow and occasional 
warm rains, the waters beneath the ice, even, take a change 
for the warmer, and the sun running higher giving us more 
warmth again, shining brightly down upon the ice with much 
power, just at the edge of the stream, which maybe protected 
from the north by a high bank of snow, yet crusted over, but 
very friable, then and there (upon the still water streams) the 
first strip of open water glistening in the sunlight, shows 
itself. At night, as very often, comes another light fall of 
the soft, fleecy snow, and early in the warm sunny morning 
following, the glossy otter is here to be seen, for it is one of 
his favorite fishing chances, just below the deep snow 
drifted rips, which are almost ice bound upon the rocky, 
pebbly, sandy bottom. And the otter is quick to descry the 
first light of the spring shining down in his long winter home. 
He sits upon the bank with his head raised, attentively watch- 
ing the sunny opening, his black coat shining, in such striking 
contrast with the white snow all about him, it is not strange 
he is called the bright and shining otter. He is watching the 
opening, knowing well this to be the place the trout love to 
winter in, near the warm, spring water which is constantly 
oozing in below the bank. They are here surely, and have 
been lying dormant for awhile, partly hybernating at times, 
lying just beneath the sediment on the bottom, with nose and 
eves just pushed a little out to view ; and as one of them, who 
has also felt the warmer change (but a few minutes too early. 



130 



The Aroostook Woods. 



alas,) wriggles out to view, the otter slides into the stream 
smoothly and without a sound, quickly re-appearing with a 
fine speckled beauty, which is writhing and flopping in his 
mouth ; and as he now lies at full length upon the bank, play- 
ing with the prize before crunching its head and eating it, he 
is a picture which one will remember. 



IN THE VELVET. 



MUCH no doubt has been written, giving more complete 
information than I shall give in regard to the deer and 
caribou shedding their antlers each year, and the new 
ones coming on again in the spring and growing so fast, at 
the first, being covered with the velvet, so called, which is a 
short, fuzzy, velvety hair, covering the antlers until well 
grown. This is of a rather pretty, dark brown color, giving 
the buck's head an odd look at first glance. The fact of their 
shedding their horns every winter is often questioned, and even 
disputed, by many unacquainted with these animals, declaring 
it would be impossible for them to grow such a set of antlers 
in one summer. One will ask you, why is it that in his 
travels through the woods in summer and fall of the year, he 
does not find the horns lying upon the ground? This is easily 
accounted for, as the woods are full of mice, and perhaps but 
few would believe what endless numbers there are ; and the 
wood mouse is not hibernating, for no matter how cold or 
how deep the snow lies upon the ground, he is almost con- 
stantly running about beneath the snow in his numberless 
paths, feeding upon the plants, roots and the seeds from the 



132 The Aroostook Woods. 



trees ; and all through the winter, as we have the mild 
changes with warmer nights, their tracks and paths are seen 
in the morning running in every direction over the light snow, 
outside again. The horns falling off early in winter and being 
covered with snow, they are made soft from the dampness, 
and the little fellows scenting them, scarcely ever leave a parti- 
cle of the choice nibbling behind. In the spring and summer 
the new set is growing on again, very fast indeed, and at the 
first the bucks rather seclude themselves some place in the 
woods, or keep mostly upon the meadows and barrens, away 
from thickets and low growing branches, as the newly grow- 
ing horns are very hot, soft and sensitive to any little touch 
or hurt. We have occasionally seen them while in the velvet. A 
gentleman of Portland, Maine, and the writer, on our way 
fishing one morning, as we stepped out of the woods upon a 
barren, saw standing directly in front of us, not eight rods 
away, a line buck caribou, his horns in the velvet. He was 
apparently not at all disturbed, and we had a tine view of 
him. lie very likely heard us coming and had waited to see 
what was abroad so early in the morning. With his head 
turned toward us standing broadside to us, he looked inquisi- 
tive for half a moment, then looked up the barren. At that 
moment he was a picture not to be forgotten ; with nothing to 
obstruct our view but the wet mosses (green, red and brown) 
growing just above his black polished hoofs. His antlers, or 
rather the two main ones, were nearly the full length ; from 
these had grown the hand shaped parts or palms, and the 
stubbs only, the many sharp points to come from these, not 
showing as yet, and all were fully covered with the velvet. 

Later on, the antlers having their growth, or nearly so, no 
doubt an itching at their base is the cause of the caribou rub- 



In the Velvet. 



!33 



bing them up and down the small trees. In this manner also, 
they clean off the remaining old velvet. For this purpose they 
choose very small trees, from one to two inches through. 
These trees are frequently seen along the sides of the ridges, 
polished up, stripped of branches and bark, up to where if is 
too small to be of use to them, while beneath, lying loosely 
about, and close to the body of the tree where it had fallen, a 
little pile of the old velvet usually may be seen. At times 
we see a larger tree used for the same purpose. One in par- 
ticular we remember of seeing quite lately — an ash with very 
rough bark, some four inches through, cleaned off higher up 
than usual, while beneath lay upon the ground quite a hand- 
full of the velvet. This we concluded to be a moose, though 
possibly it might have been Jumbo, the wary buck caribou 
we had seen at times (for a moment only). Again, with 
regard to their rubbing their horns and polishing them against 
the trees. It is said that at times you can call them handy to 
you by imitating these sounds. This can be done in the fall 
after they have rubbed off the velvet and the antlers are most 
fully hardened. The buck at this time is in fine condition, 
travelling with high head about the ridges anxious for a fight 
■with the first one of his like that dare invade his chosen 
stamping grounds. Catching a sight of his rival through the 
trees, or imagining he might be coming up over the ridge, he 
approaches a small tree in that direction, and with head down, 
claws up the leaves and earth, throwing it far out behind him, 
often stopping for a moment to cast an angry glance from his 
blazing eye up the ridge, stamping the ground ; and again 
often noisily striking his horns with glancing blows against 
the tree and its branches, making a noisy circus at this, his 
bravest time of the year, when usually he is timid, roaming 



134 The Aroostook Woods. 



the forest so quietly. That they can be called by glancing 
blows upon the small beeches, in imitation of the buck, we have 
proven in several instances, and at one time quite unintention- 
ally. We were camping upon the upland among the hard 
wood trees (the captain and the crew). The captain stepped 
a little away from the tent to cut a few beech wood stakes, 
and had been chopping but a short time when he heard a 
caribou give a low call, or greeting, but seeing nothing so 
near as the sound appeared to be, he resumed the chopping, 
when again the greeting was heard, too plainly not to be 
noticed. Looking, he saw a female caribou walking leisurly 
toward him two or three steps at a time, stopping within 
three or four rods of him, looking earnestly at him, probably 
astonished at his appearance, perhaps wondering what kind 
of a buck she had found. She stood quietly, until the 
captain spoke to the crew in the tent, saying, "bring the 
rifle," when she walked back a few steps, stopped, turned 
about once more, speaking to him in caribou dialect, at the 
same time taking another step or two toward him, then 
around a small thicket of evergreens, again approaching to 
within five or six rods as if to satisfy fully her great curiosity. 
Seeing the second party creeping from the tent toward her, 
she concluded three was not company and trotted away several 
rods, turned facing us, looked an instant for the last time 
toward our whereabouts, and disappeared. A little breeze 
was ever blowing from her to us during this time, but had it 
been from opposite directions we could not have told you this. 
We remember several instances when the caribou have 
come walking or trotting directly to us, or to within a few 
rods of where we were standing, and stop quickly in their 
tracks, then, as if greatly surprised, or a little frightened at 



In the Velvet. 135 



our looks, turn off to one side, trotting a few steps away, 
stop and look again curiously toward us, often presenting a 
good chance for a shot. So there are times when the large 
game make directly toward you in the woods when least ex- 
pected. Not often to attack, however; yet we cannot deny 
[that ivc have often been told) that one must be wide awake 
and quick to act at times. Out of a great curiosity, as we 
have said, or seeing a movement from us in the bushes, when 
the wind is breezy from them toward us, they suppose it to 
be one or more of their own kind, and straight toward us, 
come trotting up for an interview. For even if strangers, the 
caribou, when they sight each other in their wanderings, we 
think they most always step up and say good morning, even 
without any previous introduction. 

At one time, two of us cruising the ridges for a caribou,, 
came suddenly • upon a doe and a two year old buck. The 
doe ran to leeward of us, the buck to the windward. So we 
tried a little strategy with the buck ; instead of following him 
directly, we walked briskly along for a number of rods on his 
line of travel, but keeping a little higher up on the ridge, and 
thinking we had given him a chance to again sight us, we 
stepped still farther away and sat down in a small thicket of 
evergreens. The ground thickly covered with the dried 
leaves and the wind blowing favorably, we soon heard the 
buck's steady trotting toward us as he rustled through the 
leaves, and knew that he had caught sight of, or heard us as 
we passed to the thicket. We could see nothing of him 
whilst coming, but distinctly heard his steady trot, louder and 
nearer, until he quickly stopped within rive rods of us, with- 
out taking a walking step. We were sitting side by side 
upon the same log, while he was now standing as motionless 



i }(> The Aroostook Woods. 

as ourselves, with head and neck and the upper part of his 
back and hips hidden by the firs, but his shoulders and a part 
<A his dappled side all unobstructed to view, and the longer 
white hairs of his coat underneath that were gently waving 
toward us from the breeze, were just on a line with our eyes, 
as we were sitting down hill from where he was quietly 
standing. How long he possibly might have stood there 
listening, waiting tor a sight or a sound from the supposed 
doe, one cannot tell. 

Like the antelope, they can be decoyed pretty near at times 
if in some favorable locality. Years since, when fishing 
through the ice was more in order, we were upon the lake Eor 
that purpose, ami had seen th * caribou playing around the 
points and in and out the sunny coves during the middle part 
<A the bright days. Wishing to see or try their amount of 
curiosity, and if we could entice them to approach, we cut a 
pole for a Bag-Staff and tied to it by the corners, a red ban- 
danna, then placed it above the centre of our green bough 
shanty out on the ice, in which we used to sit anil fish in the 
cool and breezy times. They did not come near that da\ 
but we left the flag <railv waving above the bough house 
when we returned to camp from fishing. During the night 
it snowed three or four inches and the green boughs were 
well covered. In the morning when we came again, our flag 
was gaily waving, free and dry in the breeze over the white 
mound, yet we could see before reaching the shelter, that we 
were too much behind time to see the circus and enjoy the 
fun. We lost that pleasure, but they left a circus bill upon 
the snow and ice describing the performance. In the first, 
they came out of the woods to the ice from a point below', 
most probably for a romp, which they much enjoy upon the 



I\ the Velvet. 137 

lake when it is fine footing for them. At the time, the ernst 
in the woods had softened from the morning's sun shining 
down so warm upon it, and would not hold them to jump 
about over it, and they seem always to know w r hen it is niee 
travelling for them upon the lake. After playing about on 
the ice at the point, they came strolling up the shore toward 
the bough shanty, occasionally walking up the bank to eat the 
gray moss from the trees that were blown down toward them, 
or from those of scrubby growth growing close to the water 
among the rocks, sinking to their knees as they did so, in the 
drifts, then down on the snowy ice again and on up the 
sunny shore, lazily, as seen by short, irregular steps and their 
winding path. Now and then the smallest tracks showed 
that the calves had jumped away a piece from the drove, then 
followed on in the rear, as if when getting too forward. Old 
daddy C, who cares nothing for the young trash and seldom 
has them in his company, would be teaching them good 
manners, and in a manner not too good to the children. 

And thus they strolled along up the shore in the sunshine. 
But soon the leader (some wary old buck) spies first the 
shadow moving upon the snow, then above the white shanty, 
rests his eye upon the waving bandanna. Almost upon the 
instant of his making the discovery and as his head is raised 
high, all stop in their tracks and stand looking at this strange 
thing, which is apparently alive. All gaze curiously, except 
the younger ones, who pay no more attention after a glance, 
than if it was a red maple bush in autumn. The sober old 
dames slowly turn their gaze after a snuff or two, with an 
enquiring look upon the leader, who without taking his eyes 
from the flag or deigning them a glance, shakes his head as 
he lowers it and tosses it in the air again for another snuff 



[38 The Aroostook Woods. 



and a longf steady gaze, and then a low boo-00-0 as he again 
lowers his head and tosses it up high and takes a step forward, 
stops, then growing bolder, hastens on a bit, stops, turns, 
facing the herd an instant, wheels and stands facing the flag 
again, while all follow up irregularly and stop behind him, 
pretty near the shanty, the calves hanging well back in the 
rear. After stamping a bit here, he backs quickly, half 
slipping down, causing a general backing from the herd and 
a turning and jumping from the calves. Again his courage 
is good, though so near. He steps ahead about his length, 
when as he stamps again upon the ice, a stronger blast of 
wind causes the bandanna to loudly flap, which frightens 
him at last ; he gives two or three jumps and trots away in a 
halt' circle and strikes out for the point from which he came 
to the ice from the forest. All start with him, circling out 
the other way from the bough shanty and join him below. 
The calves, not as yet well used to smooth ice beneath the 
snow, get several tumbles before balancing well upon their 
skates, and the circus was out. 

In their brave and fighting time, in the fall of the year, 
they are said to have been found dead, dying in mortal com- 
bat, their horns interlocked in such a manner that they could 
not extricate themselves, each at the first, no doubt, attaching 
all blame to the other for his being placed in such a predica- 
ment ; they would light with fiercest energy until one of them 
is dead, holding his rival in his death deadlock until both are 
no more. 

The caribou with his long legs, large feet and wide spread- 
ing hoofs cares but little for our deep snows, and will run and 
wade through them untiringly for many miles. When the 
surface of the deep snow has become just a little stiff from thaw- 



In The Velvet. 139 



ing and freezing, he a.\ ill creep over it, leaving very shoal foot- 
prints to mark his wanderings ; but start him up lively at such a 
time, and this rabbit-like track changes to deep plunges and 
the longest jumps, as he leaps away. Some of the highest 
windfalls are no impediment to him ; a nineteen foot fence 
would be just fun for him to skip over; twenty and twenty- 
five feet at a jump down a grade is just merry excercise for 
him. Hurry him quickly down the old logins: road with a 
whoop and a yell, a^ crooked, leaning, half-down tree across 
his way twenty feet high to clear, and he leaves the snow ten 
or twelve feet this side, landing twenty or more beyond, 
without a quiver. So it is useless to chase this fellow thinking 
1o run him down or tire him out, as he gets away so easily, 
leading you through the thickest swamps, often soon taking 
to the ice, when he trots away over the glaze like the wind, 
keeping his feet as easily as a sharp shod horse, the keen 
edges of his sharp, hard hoofs marking the ice like skates ; and 
as we have said, to see a dozen of them fairly riving over the 
ice, which is glistening in the sunlight, led by a gallant buck, 
all trotting square together and not a break up among them, 
is a gay and lively sight. 




OUR ANTLERS. 



LOOKING FOR ANTLERS. 



WE have for years been wishing for an elegant set of 
antlers, with a nice head, to preserve as a trophy of 
the hunt, and have travelled about, over more than one thou- 
sand miles of forest to find them. This is more true than 
strange to us, for we have had them in mind during each fall 
hunting for many seasons ; and a set of caribou antlers that 
fill your eye to a point are very few and far between. And 
when travelling a number of miles nearly every day while 
camping in the woods, tramping over the hills and ridges, or 
paddling around the lake shores, up and down the inlets and 
over the long, still water streams, they have always been in 
our mind. 

Always looking for them, wishing we might see them 
moving along behind the bushes, as we scanned them closely 
upon each side while passing over our many spotted trails or 
lines, through the woods ; or at some favorite haunt where 
the game was wont to tarry on their wanderings, to feed upon 
the hanging moss and the young and tender tops of the 
smallest maples. 

And at some round turn down the old logging road which 



*4 2 



The Aroostook Woods. 



we knew of, as there presenting a long, straight view, always 
looking gamey, when we would step around light and slowly, 
as we peeped over the ground with rifle held ready, or see 
moving those aforesaid antlers up and down, as he reached 
and pulled off a mouthful of choice, gray moss from the old 
spruce top lying upon the ground, left by the lumbermen a 
year, or years before, yet bearing a crop for them still. And 
when walking along upon the top of the breezy ridge, we 
often stopped and leaned beside a tree, looking well over the 
down grade to windward ; then on through the beech nut 
grove, carefully here in beech nut time for under these 
trees, as well as the deer, they often stray. 

Morning and evening, in the birch bark canoe, as we 
paddled noiselessly close in under the shores, up and down 
the still water streams, scanning the mossy meadows or look- 
ing eagerly over the windward side on the scrubby barren, 
sometimes aided by the glass to take in as well the far 
distance. 

At the turn of the stream, moving the rifle nearer and even 
holding it in readiness as we slowly moved around, knowing 
that in a moment the view to be before us showed a feeding 
ground of water grasses and lilies, shoal water, a handy cover 
and a well trodden trail leading to the forest beyond. Very 
many miles thus we passed over with the rifle always ready. 

We were looking for the handsome set of antlers that we 
coveted from the very first of our leaving the immediate 
vicinity of the camp, always listening, watching, never for- 
getting to be ever quiet, avoiding the small, sharp, cracking 
sticks upon the ground, picking our way over and around the 
partly decayed limbs and old windfalls for fear of those crack- 
ing sounds that startle them ; and always with the lightest 



Looking for Antlers. 143 

possible tread, until we arc again standing at the door of the 
hunting lodge and hang our rifles in their places. 

We were looking Eor them even though we carried home to 
camp a young and tender buck instead, with only an apology 
for horns; and later, when the snow had come to stay awhile, 
showing us more plainly the freshest tracks, and the sledding 
was fairly good, when we hauled out the large and fat old 
caribou with the scrubby horns. 

We believe they were in our thoughts one morning when- 
tracking was made unusually good again, over the hard, crusty, 
bottom snow, from the five or six inches of new that had 
silently fallen during the night, clearing up with a bright, 
breezy morning. We remember at the first how every bough 
and bush was loaded, piled on in oval mounds, and little 
peaks on all, not one escaping its white and heavy load. But 
Boreas came to their rescue, and then instead of the trees all 
remaining so very quiet, standing so motionless and hanging 
down their heads, they bow to the winds, and raising their 
heads shake off their burden, and gaily wave their arms to the 
breeze again. 

We were just on the way as the wind sprang up, and we 
met old Boreas upon the hill beneath the spruces, and there 
received his cool reception. Just as the trees were bowing to 
him he opened up for the performance, and if a short show, 
he gave a merry circus. It was spank, splash, everywhere, 
and not forgetting to snowball the hunters. It was no use to 
dodge, for he took us on the wing just the same. We had 
started after a good hearty breakfast, fresh and wiry, as 
if in the heydey of youth, being gaily caparisoned and 
topped out with red flannel night caps, high peaked, not even 
minus the tassel, in great hopes of the noble buck that was 



i_j_4 The Aroostook Woods. 

wearing our horns this day appearing before us. To attack 
us perhaps (at which thought we may have shivered a little 
in our moccasins, but it was only the cold) . Or if he had 
not the courage for that, was expecting him likely to be com- 
ing toward us sometime during the day, for the red wonder 
must surely catch his eye while he was passing along, and 
we crouching behind a bush with the red caps bobbing up 
and down toward him. Or he, standing in some cover out of 
our sight, though pretty sure to see us as we arc passing, and 
then trot out toward us a piece. And we remember of see- 
ing him, not as yet, when after a long tramp for that same 
half day, noontime came. So we sought out a sheltered 
place from the wind beside a thicker clump of scrubby spruce 
and sat down upon the sunny side of them, opened out our 
lunch and removed the corks from the two half pints, con- 
taining our cold coffee, for the sparkling brook water tlows 
not lively through the barrens in winter. And sitting here in 
the sun, the northwesterly wind, though breezy over the tops 
above, almost skip us entirely, while we hugely enjoy our 
lunch. After dinner usually comes the fragrant smoke, but 
just a few whiffs to-day, for this is not proper when still 
hunting; not a good decoy to bring the caribou toward you. 
But this time we indulge just a little under the circumstances, 
as we are sitting within four or rive rods of a large pond to 
the south of us, high up and oyer which we think the smoke 
is all wafted. And looking through the trees we can see a 
large portion of the pond, with many bare spots here and 
there, and rows of oval mounds of snow of all widths and 
lengths (just depending upon the fickleness of old boreas,) 
with wide, long stretches reaching far away (when he was 
true to the point and not of a changeable mind,) of the hard 



Looking for Antlers. 14=; 

and very whitest crusted snow, blown nearly hare of the last 
light snow, and now beautifully glistening in the sunlight. 

And as we scan it o'er, our eyes are not gladdened with the 
sight of the proud buck coming up over the longest hard, 
crusty ways, nor wading through the shoal drifts between the 
mounds, leaving the clean cut shape of his hoof at the bottom, 
with the print of his dew claws at the rear of them ; not ap- 
proaching with his careless, sauntering gait and general drowsy 
action, when at his ease, that even the north wind in winter 
seems not to change. 

Not coming to-day, to stop at last near the edge of the 
pond in front of us, to quickly throw up his head and look all 
alive again, as he holds the long sought for antlers, elegant in 
size and shape, with their many points and all the colors of 
old gold, high up and steady before our gaze, his dark fore- 
head beneath all exposed for a target, and as not a carc-a-boo 
is in sight down the wind to the south of us, we raise up ; 
now we are ready to resume our tramp, and are looking 
behind again over all the large and small open places at the 
north. As our backs are turned, a sound reaches us from the 
south, and turning quickly, we see trotting away from us over 
the frozen pond a noble buck, flying off with our antlers, 
even tipping them back over his shoulders to tantalize us with 
their beauty, showing them clean and bright as the golden 
leaves of autumn. Much too far away for a sfood shot, he 
hardly shows any apparent lessening of his speed, as he 
wheels and faces towards us, holding well up to view, our 
antlers. He now hears a shot from us, tired out of real 
angry spite, aimed high above his head and which strikes at 
his feet, when away he bounds to the forest beyond, all safe 
and sound, to live, laugh and chuckle, while he tells to an 



i_|_6 The Aroostook Woods. 

admiring herd, as he flourishes our antlers to right and left, 
up and down, while he stands upon a hillock before them, all 
about the two fantastic hunters sitting down to their dinner, 
right at the back windows of his sleeping apartment, and 
then puffing their tobacco smoke directly in his eves, just to 
awaken him and see him trot away over the long bare reaches 
of the pond for their amusement. Moral : don't smoke 
tobacco. 

As he wades over the higher drifts on the shore far beyond, 
looking half his size, and disappears entirely from our view, 
we note his course due south, and remark, 'tis possible we 
may see his track again, if not himself, as his route will take 
him across our track on the trail over which we come and go, 
to and from the barrens. Bidding him good-bye in tone and 
word brimful of kindly feeling toward him, we keep on our 
way up the barren. Soon leaving this behind, as the after- 
noon sun grows more chary of its warmth, we then point 
for the trail that leads us through the swamps, over the rise, 
upon the ridges and on to camp. Passing on our way as we 
predicted we might, the fresh track of the buck that had 
crossed over before us. Just here we remember, while 
comparing notes as to form and size of his tracks, we were 
scolded for stopping beneath them, as we have often been 
before, by a pair of partridges while budding (eating the 
buds of the yellow birch). The birds were quickly cared 
for, for at such a time, and when our breakfast seems a long 
past dream, experience tells us they will be quite tasty. 

As the shades were thickening beneath the spruces on the 
knoll, where we were held up so suddenly in the morning by 
old Mr. Boreas, lowering down the white sheets, hiding our 
way and disputing our free passage until after his circus, we 



Looking for Antlers. 147 

pronounce it sundown. I>ut walking out into our little clear- 
ing all brightens out again for awhile from the sun beauti- 

fullv painting all the lower western sky with its most brilliant 
and soft mellow tints of red and gold, smiling a bright 
promise for the next to-morrow. A few tired steps from the 
spruces are taken and we are standing at the door of our cosy 
camp, hanging up the rifles that had grown to be rather 
heavy for the last mile. But an hour from this, after a warm 
hearty supper (which hardly ever gives the tramp bad 
dreams) we have forgotten our weariness and shall be just 
as anxious in the morning following, to again cruise over 
their favorite haunts, seeking an interview with one of line 
antler-. 

And again in the morning after having breakfast and tidy- 
ing up the camp, we could not resist the longing that seems 
ever to come to us in the bright days with the greater power. 
Though these would be considered cold, uncomfortable days 
to those outside in the large clearing, or riding oyer the hills, 
here in the deep woods where the winds are kept above the 
lower limbs, sweeping over the tops only with much power, 
while the sun finds its way under and down between the trees 
and branches, seeking out all those quiet chances, lighting 
up the trunks and lower limbs until they smile again from its 
grateful warmth, here a greater part of many days in winter it 
is glorious. So the lunch is put up, as it has been so many 
times before, that we seem to have it ready in the lunch bag 
and oyer our shoulder, without it haying required any think- 
ing over at all or disturbing our planning out our course. 

Out to the midst of the wildwood we go along, with the 
sunshine among the trees, down the south-west trail, spotted or 
blazed with the axe mark upon the trees for miles, which as 



i }S The Aroostook Woods. 

we have said, in dark days or stormy weather comes in so 
handy if you wish to hasten along, and when we strike these 
spotted trees in our wanderings it seems like rinding true 
friends. Here after travelling a mile or so, we again see the 

tracks of our itinerant friend, the buck, still true to his course 
to the south. We follow it as it leads over the ridge on our 
route. For a long way he picks his path where the wood is 
most open, which is like them, if not hurried; then coming 
to the thick swamp he dislikes the tangle as well as ourselves 
and takes advantage of an old lumber road leading westerly. 
Down this he moves along in even, measured steps, showing 
he is journeying (not feeding along slowly) and is keeping 
the roadway beside the swamp until hard wood and open 
growth appearing, he turns south once more, up and over 
another ridge of open hard wood growth. lie is keeping on 
his way to the large south barren some miles beyond, as is to 
be seen by his always turning again in that southerly direc- 
tion, after passing beside or around the rough chances ; also 
by his not stopping to take a bite from the young growth or 
stepping aside at any place, to teed upon the moss he is pass- 
ing. And thus they wander, from one bleak barren to 
another, preferring the moss that grows upon the dwarfed 
trees, and the moss, lichen and many plants growing at their 
feet, as they travel over these always moist, boggy places, and 
in going their rounds, vary but little each time in their 
course, excepting to pass upon one side of a ridge or swamp 
on one trip, and the next time choosing its opposite. 

Satisfied the buck is not a stranger on our hunting grounds 
and having his feeding places and route of travel to and fro. 
Well located, we shall remember him among our neighbors, 
remembering his stately head and tine horns, as entitling him 



Looking for Antlers. 149 

to our respect and further notice, and not forgetting the size 
and trim shape of his aristrocratic foot, we shall be often 
looking for the print of it in the snow, and endeavor to 
gain a better acquaintance with him some time when lie ma\ 
pass over our stamping grounds. Standing upon the end of 
the ridge and looking down the steep descent in the direction 
of and listening, we catch the sound of the laughing gurgle of 
the mountain brook, and down we step for luncheon. 

Luncheon time in the depth of the wildwood, after an easy 
going stroll of a few miles over the hills through the pure 
bracing air, brings an appetite to be envied and we would not 
trade our seat to-day beside the brook, for one at the best 
hotel. Sitting beside this merry little stream which never 
fails us. and is always having a lively song whenever we have 
called upon it, as its waters are hastening on their way, leap- 
ing down over the dark, mossy rocks, then straight along by 
the big pine log. into, and overflowing the small pool, and on 
down to the little fall which makes the music so inviting to 
all that hear it calling, when it bobs up and down in a few 
tiny rolling waves, and goes on zigzagging in and out, and 
again down among the alders, where the lively school of 
small baby trout have all hastened upon seeing our shadows 
darkening the pool. 

And here lies the old down hollow pine, covered with 
snow to-day, but its dry inside is yet the favorite race track 
of the happy squirrels, that only stop a moment from their 
play to eye us, then barking, again dart in and out as merrily 
as before being disturbed. And upon the old pine log below 
the breeze, and with the sunshine warm upon us. we have 
our luncheon, sitting upon a goodly armful of fir boughs 
which, as we break them from the trees beside us. they as 



i^o The Aroostook Woods. 



ever and always, shed their sweet fragrance on the air. The 
sun shining down upon us in such well sheltered situations, so 
warm and quiet, it is like another climate compared to the 
ridge's top, and often if to determine as to the wind yet blow- 
ing, we must look above at the tops of the evergreens, or 
watch if the long, gray moss streamers hang quiet in the 
sunshine, or gaily wave and point at times steadily down to 
leeward. Sitting down to luncheon beside the little brook 
again, as often before, with its ever pleasant music in our 
ears, and in such harmony with all around us, we taste its 
waters pure and sweet, again and again, and cannot say it 
nay when its happy laughing music is ever calling us. 

And now as no unwary buck has had the audacity to 
intrude himself upon our quiet during the dinner hour, we 
look carefully, as we have many times already, up and down 
the ravine and upon the upland beyond, and seeing no antlers 
pushing out toward us from beneath evergreens, in shady 
nooks or sunny spots, we now step over and leave behind our 
little mountain brook singing cheerily to the trees and the 
squirrels, and moving over the rise, cross the dry rocky run 
and climb the ridge, following it easterly for a long way. 

As the sun, which has been our warm friend and bright 
pleasant company, all the while with us until now, is reach- 
ing toward his wraps, we take the broad hint, and turning 
with much of his warm smile yet upon us, present our left 
cheek to him as we travel northerly through the open growth 
of hard woods direct to camp. 

Soon after this comes several days of cold and snowy 
weather, the snow drifting upon and sifting in and completing 
our bough banking around the camp walls, and through the 
night the line hail is often pattering against our north and 



Looking for Antlers. 



east windows. But boreas and his attendants are so effect- 
ually boughed and banked out, that his music as it reaches us 

even in its loudest long strain is only to us, in our warm 
camp and quiet dreams, the wildwood lullaby, over and over 
again. Looking out one morning and finding two feet of 
the pure white snow pretty evenly distributed all about us. in 
spite of the wind, the last two or three inches upon the top 
mostly hail, the weather now moderating and raining softly, 
we exclaim, "now for the snow-shoes," for only a slight 
rain and a still cold night is needed to enable us upon the 
snow-shoes, to step away with long strides and springy steps, 
over the down trees, logs, underbrush and tangle, either over 
the ridges or through the swamps. 

Not just yet awhile, for the rain holds out as well as 
did the snow, and after it has, with the warm air, taken it 
nearly away, then comes the cold weather and freezes the 
balance, making another crusty, crunching bottom, not fit for 
tracking on account of the crackling sounds beneath your feet. 
A few days of pleasant weather, not warm enough to melt 
away this old crust however, and in the afternoon we note the 
wind is east at times, when just at night comes the welcome 
snow. In the morning we have three or four inches, as 
light as feathers, and if it would remain like this, it would be 
splendid still hunting, for this very soon softens the crusty 
bottom and you can creep along without noisy steps and their 
echoes, which if you hasten, gives out an almost constant 
roaring sound, to notify all within hearing of your approach. 
But it is \et snowing in the morning at times. The bushes 
and boughs are again loaded, and the air is growing thick and 
heavy, yet we start out thinking it a pretty good day after all 
for business with a buck, for the snow, while falling much 



The Aroostook Woods. 



impedes their seeing any distance, while the heavy atmos- 
phere keeps back the scent of yon. 

Getting out to the spruces, we find the east wind breezing 
up rather lively and too much against the chances for getting 
a shot while walking westerly, the course we must travel for 
the game we are looking for, but as we have an errand at the 
camp of the hunters two miles in that direction, we conclude 
however, to strike first for that locality. On the way over 
the trail we cross fresh tracks of single deer wandering along, 
but not wanting one particularly, do not follow. The snow 
ceases entirely and the sun adding its power everywhere, it 
is now melting and dropping from the evergreens. Just 
before reaching the camp of the hunters, the tracks of a cow 
carilion with her calf walking beside her, are also passed 
oxer. Taking" a very early dinner with the boys, at their 
earnest invitation (just to please them) and praising their 
really excellent baked beans, warm biscuit and smoking hot 
gingerbread, we picked up our rifles and hurried away over 
our back tracks. 

By this time the snow was melting down fast, and contin- 
ually dropping from off the trees, and the tracking was 
elegant. Passing over the tracks of the two caribou, I 
noticed they had nearly disappeared from the sun shining so 
warm upon them. And in walking over the high land 
beyond, just upon the higher part, when within a few steps 
of the spot where our pretty buck of the barren had crossed 
ten days before, 1 came to a halt, for I had blazed a small 
tree one upon each side of his former track, and lo, between 
the same two trees a fresh track showed, so lately made, that I 
looked long and carefully in the direction the toes pointed 
before moving, and then stepping up to it, softly whispered, 



Looking for Antlers. 153 

"•Eureka," for he had taken exactly what I was now sure 
was his usual path, and was heading for the north barren. 

II is trim shaped track corresponded every way with those 
we had examined upon the pond, and he had passed over the 
trail, certainly not twenty minutes before my coining, for the 
upper edge of his tracks were yet clean cut and perfect, while 
all else around was melting and dissolving from the warmth. 

••Well, let's see; a quarter of twelve. Matches: Yes. 
Axe? No — it's at the camp. But I can break cedar limbs. 
Pipe and tobacco? Yes. Looks like more rain any time 
soon, and no moon. Compass? Sure! Gracious! had a 
good dinner anyway." And all this time while soliloquizing, 
I am creeping through the bushes and between and under- 
neath the trees beside his tracks, looking near, and far ahead 
between the dripping trees, and when it offers, having a large 
tree in line to creep to and stop beside it a moment, but only 
using time enough to look well to each side and ahead, then 
on. depending upon my eyes altogether, as the sounds from 
the breaking of sticks, if any, would reach but little way such 
a day, and they so wet. But contrary to my calculations, and 
apparently the aforesaid buck is not going very straight for 
the barren, for the sun is shining on my left now as I follow, 
and should the east wind again breeze up fresh and strong, I 
shall see a clean pair of heels in the air most likely. Still I 
am tramping on, hoping for all kinds of chances in my favor, 
though it lo<As dubious just on this tack at present. On now 
he goes yet keeping westerly, never taking a bite as yel 
or turning aside except to dodge the windfalls of old trees 
upon the ground. And now he crosses an old road which is 
nearly two miles from his supposed route. 

On up the rising ground and upon the level top of it, his 



i 54 The Aroostook Woods. 

track is here as fresh as if I saw him take his foot from it. 
But it's no use to hurry too fast ; a buck tramping off alone is 
Wary, and, hark ! I stop quickly and lean beside a tree, seeing 
nothing, and am losing time, but would bet something I heard 
a dull, breaking sound. As I step on, now quite carefully, 
I am looking with my eves if I ever did, but can see no 
stylish buck ahead, to right or left. So I creep on still more 
cautious, if that could be possible, and soon come to a slight 
change in his movements. I am now surely quite close to 
him, every moment expecting to hear his jumps and steady 
trot away ; for he has just doubled upon his tracks, has taken 
a few steps back toward me, stopped and listened, as if mis- 
trusting he was being followed, turns again thinking all is 
right behind and is walking ahead again to his first turning 
(leaves quite a path over the short distance) and then turns 
off to the north as if to visit the west end of the barren, but 
instead keeps winding until he faces east now, as the sun is 
partly on my back. The wind, slight and transient, I occa- 
sionally feel upon my rather warm face, for all of which we 
kindly thank him from the first, and if he will only keep to 
this course shall be in love with him. All is in my favor 
now, the wind is right, sun behind, tracking elegant, down 
hill grade, he is not in sight, can see his line of tracks far 
beyond in the open growth leading over another ridge more 
southerly, and take advantage of this for an Indian trot down 
the grade and up the rise. Now looking sharp again over the 
open growth, and seeing onlv his long line of tracks in view, 
can vet hurry forward and gain upon him somewhat, we 
hope. South east, then nearly south, and we are wondering 
what unaccountable whim is taking him back and forth, and 
if he keeps straight on away beyond his line of tramping. 



Looking for Antlers. [55 

But now east again, and steady to the point, crossing the old 
roads we know so well and travelling every moment nearer to 
our camp. lie picks the clearest route, as he has chosen the 
hot generally, is walking more leisurely, for which we again 
s.tv thanks, as about this time, although we believe in a free 
perspire and no stint of good water, we have had a several 
times sufficiency of each for the day. Comingf to some old 
lumber operation where a goodly pile of old tops are show- 
ing above the low bushes, I again move slowly and look well 
ahead and all about such a feeding chance, but see him not. 
Yet here we should be cautious, as he has made directly 
toward this with slower, shorter steps toward the last, abroad 
hint that he would take a bite. But we have while leaning 
beside a tree, scanned most closely everything in sight. Creep- 
ing on again I now see his tracks ahead leading down into a 
little valley, also showing the old tops and quite a blow-down 
of spruce trees piled up at some former time by old boreas 
himself, especially for myself, for which — thanks. Stop- 
ping as quickly as my eye rests upon the blow down, and 
standing behind another large and friendly birch which hides 
me wholly, should he be there, I wipe the perspiration from 
my face, and as the cool cast wind, so grateful to me now, 
puffs across the ravine, I look out by the side of the birch 
long and steadily, and at last after all am inclined to think he 
is not there. 

But hold on Quaker! The wind again brings to us a 
crackling, and this time from up above the ground, plain 
and distinct. lie is in the blow-down, and in reaching 
for some thrifty bunch of gray moss, has cracked or broken 
off a branch. And now Mr. Gadabout, I locate you by the 
sound. You have found an elegant feeding chance and are 



1^6 The Aroostook Woods. 



hungry by this time sure. I have the wind of you to-day, 
(but vet I will defer my smoke until later) and am holding 
the rifle about where I know you must show yourself, and the 
sun is at my back. In a moment Our Antlers are 
slowly moving out from the blow-down, then up and down 
just back of it. It is higher ground as he is stepping, and he 
now shows his head as well. Another moment with three or 
four steps and he stands out showing all of his body but his 
legs. The late afternoon sun is lighting up the wide spread 
antlers, and his side is all exposed, and now we telegraph 
him and try to watch his receiving of the message. The 
smoke interferes with the first glance, but the second shows 
him making wild leaps almost toward us as we stood beside 
the birch. Another cartridge was already in the barrel and 
our aim followed him as he jumped to one side and stopped 
short in a clump of firs, wheeling quickly and facing back 
toward the blow-down, as if the shot he had received came 
from the east or beside him, instead of from his back tracks. 

With his head high in air and with his first snort of fear 
came to him the second shot, through the heart, and he laid 
down Our Antlers, and after one-half moment, no sound 
or movement did he ever make again. But after walk- 
ing over to the evergreens and gazing long upon the noble 
buck now the excitement had passed, we coidd hardly feel to 
exult over the victory. Though the head and antlers were 
perfect, and we were very proud of them, a cheerless feeling 
clung to us that would not vanish at our wish, to give place 
to triumph and rejoicing. And not until a brother sportsman, 
who kindly assisted in sledding him to camp, had with his 
cheerful conversation and fervent praise of the trophy, lifted 
us out a little, could we shake off this cheerless feeling, after 
taking' Our Antlers. 



THE MUSQUASH. 



THE muskrat, or musquash, arc quite numerous in the 
quiet waters of Aroostook, making a pretty fair 
business for the trapper if caught in the spring. Fall trap- 
ping should nol be engaged in, as the skins at that time are 
worth but a trifle; besides the kittens being so numerous, 
many arc taken which are small and worthless. When the 
ice is all gone in the spring it is more profitable, as the kits 
are about grown and all pelts bring a fair price. 

In starting out with the canoe to set the traps around the 
boggy shores, say for two or three miles, fifty or more traps 
are none too many to be useful. Small stakes, two or three 
feet long- arc provided for each trap ; the stub of a branch 
left on at the butt to hold the ring of the chain in place, should 
the stake be pushed down its length, or when the stake is 
wired at the small end to the hushes; also as many small 
branches of fir as traps, to mark the spot where each trap is 
placed. Usually two. are trapping together; the how man in 
the canoe places the traps. His evergreen branches and stakes 
are laid well up forward, butts toward him, next the traps, with 
chains wound up about them, and a half yard of ncaled 



1 58 The Aroostook Woods. 

wire tied in the ring is useful often to wire a stake to some- 
thing or to fasten to an outgrowing bush, placing the trap 
in their path if possible ; if not, bait should be used. It is 
about the same as useless, and a cruel way, to set a trap where 
they will not be drowned. It should be placed close by the 
water's edge, bearing firm and level so as not to tip over if 
the edge is stepped upon. An inch or two under the water 
is best always; if not, a light covering of grass or leaves. 
His first act is to take to the water but if caught and confined 
on the land he will twist off a leg or be eaten, which is hard 
for him and the trapper's loss. A hatchet is useful, as often a 
place can be cut out at the edge of the bank allowing the 
water to ilow in just right for him, when a few small bushes 
at each side will guide him over the trap. 

Parsnips, carrot or sweet apple is good bait, parsnips the 
best of these ; but the most attractive bait for them is the 
musk of the older males. This is found when taking off the 
pelt, just beneath the skin, in two egg shaped sacks. Place 
these directly in the sun and in a few hours it is a free oil of 
musk. Carry this in a small, thick vial, with good sized 
mouth. Break a dry stick (which will absorb it best) about 
ten or twelve inches long, press the end in the oil a moment 
and stick down beside the trap, or beyond it six or eight 
inches. In the spring this is the drawing bait ; in fact you 
can see one when in the act of swimming by, slow down, 
raise his nose, snuff the air and swim direct for the trap. 
Now and then a bait for a mink sticking up a little higher 
over the trap may add to your catch, or coming to a grassy 
point of the shore, free from bushes, perhaps it shows an otter 
has called lately, has clawed up the grass and earth in small 
heaps, and has left remnants of his food or other signs. Here 



The Musquash. i 59 



place your number two, three or even four, as it happens, 
and in Mich a manner as to drown him when he calls again in 
a week or so. Do this all from the canoe if you can ; if not, 
the water is handy ; wet well your tracks and the traps. 

In the spring of the year as the warm days approach, by 
getting in ambush and keeping quiet, one can easily call them 
very near. The Indian is an adept at calling. He places 
the tips of his first two fingers upon his lips, and by making 
quick, kissing sounds imitates them to a nicety, and brings 
them to within a few yards of his hiding place. 

A few are taken at times in a novel manner, when the clear 
ice first forms, and skating is in order, when two persons can 
have quite a little circus. This is by disturbing their house 
a little, when they will take to the water, and can be seen 
swimming just under the thin ice. Following them, they 
must soon put their nose against the ice to renew their breath. 
When one has breathed out his bubble of air and is waiting 
for it to become oxygenated, a blow is struck over his head, 
which frightens him from it, and without his breath he soon 
keels up beneath the ice, is cut out and bagged. 

Many are taken in the fall and spring by the Indians. Two 
camping and trapping together, using the birch bark canoe 
altogether, disdaining any other kind of a craft. They look 
forward to this time in the fall of the year with pleasure, and 
so much do they enjoy the fall hunt, musquashing, they hardly 
wait for the first litter of kittens (of which they have always 
two, and often three of a season,) to change their hue from 
mouse color to golden brown, before starting in for the har- 
vest. They consider the hams, or saddles, to be the best of 
food, and at this time have many a glorious feast. Correct 
they arc, for although broiled musquash sounds different 



hk> The Aroostook Woods. 

Erom broiled venison, yel some few prefer the former. And 
there are mam, knowing of their cleanliness and of what the} 
eat, who are not at all fastidious about broiling and eatiner the 
fine savory saddles of the yearlings, whenever opportunity 
offers. At this, as a son of Erin has remarked, " Yees may 
smile — but, yees nade not." For a person unacquainted with, 
and eating il without knowing what it was, would pass his 
plate for "small piece o( the canvass bach, please." 

We remember many years since of a trip on the Mattawam- 
keag waters with a companion, the time being the early 
Indian summer (;is we always arranged to have it for a canoe 
trip in the fall, if possible) o\ Leaving the head oi Mattawam- 
keag lake at noontime, and oi trolling Eor pickerel on the way 
down to the foot, beside the coves thick with lilies and their 
pails, or leaves, so main large pickerel darting out, and with 
a splash seizing the spoon bait, that we soon left them to their 
freedom, and arriving early at the dam built across the Eoot of 
the lake, just at the head of the falls to camp for the night. 
And that below the dam the trout, and very large ones, were 
taking the tlv so beautifully that we very soon had full baskets 
and could wish no more. 

Then the next morning oi running the falls which we knew 
nothing of, except from hearsay, and wishing afterward 
"hearsay" had been of a former generation, when at noon- 
time we were delayed two hours longer than usual drying our 
clothes and blankets, and patching the canoe. But aside from 
this, which was really but a ducking after all, we enjoyed this 
day as well as ever a day in our lives: swiftly gliding down 

* J © c^» 

the west branch iA the Mattaw amkeag, mile after mile, sitting 
quietly watching the shores, noting the elegant deer glades 
with well trodden paths to the water, past the rocky walls, 



The Musquash. 161 



then the rolling knolls, and soon the quick rising hills running 
straight up from the si ream toward the sky, where one could 
jump down sixty-five Beet from an evergreen plump into the 
river below (but he should not). Then swiftly sliding 
dow nw aid in the- stillness, past the merry lilt le brooklets, often 
hearing their purling music, bul rushing by with just a glimpse 
of them over our shoulder, and on down by the ledges, when 
voices from another and larger brook are calling. I Ipon our 
righl hand we hear Ehem, faintly at first, then quickly in louder 
tones, and as we grasp an alder to check the bark, we see the 
rocky mouth, and see its wild, laughing, dashing, noisy 
splashing, as it tumbles down the hill, over and between the 
rocks, and out before us, as we hold up and make fast to the 
bushes a few yards above its mouth ; for few could resist its 
tempting look and to drop a fly among the little snowballs of 
foam, and trail it through the white curved lines, rings and 
half circles that formed at its mouth and upon the pool, eddy- 
ing, and drifting out and downward with the current. 

Only a short time, however, did we tarry here at the rocky 
brook, for it seemed mean to catch them when we had what 
we could use in the warm weather; besides, "they count up 
fast," says my companion, "when you are playing two, to 
have a third one jump in the air and hook himself upon the 
rear fly, and then safely land them all," (which he did). 
Again on we go, soon leaving the long dead water behind 
and descending gaily down another racing rapid. Then pass- 
ing the east branch of the same name, which here joins the 
west, and we have passed entirely out of the beautiful forest 
to civilization, to a change — and so tame. Cow bells, fields, 
femes and sheep. Slow, sluggish water and a bridge ; our 
wild, fne and untamed spirits that we have been revelling in 



1 62 The Aroostook Woods. 

are now low down ; we are now no more animated than the 
cowboy we see walking behind his charge. 

But after passing under the bridge over which runs the old 
military road, and then by the pretty little village nestling in 
the valley by the pleasant river, then a few scattering farms, 
and below we see again the welcome and enlivening forest, 
for which to reach and find a cosy camping chance beside 
one of our favorite babbling brooks, we actually exert our- 
selves for the first time since our ducking in the falls. 

The next day, far below by a clear brook on the long, still 
water, we came suddenly in view of the white tent of an 
Indian trapper. But now as we are coming to where, on this 
excursion, we met with a quiet, happy camping scene, that 
fitted in so well with the musquashing, may we be forgiven 
for taking the reader this roundabout road, hurrying" him over 
a part of this canoeing trip, when our plea is, we hoped to 
interest him, and if we could give him a part of the jolly fun 
and a good portion of the deep, quiet happiness, that at times 
we so much enjoyed and appreciated, we should be more 
than pleased. 

We came upon the camp along in the afternoon upon the 
west bank, beside the river. He, or rather they, as he had 
his two daughters with him, were out on their usual six or 
eight weeks hunting and musquashing trip. He seemed a 
fine old Indian. He had visited his traps in the morning and 
was sitting upon the sunny bank skinning his catch. In a 
tree before him he had driven a hook, such as tanners use, to 
hook up the skins from the vat. lie woidd cut through the 
thickest part of one's tail and hang it upon the hook ; then 
sticking a heavy brad awl through its nose, pull it down 
taut and fasten to the tree with the awl, thus keeping it in a 



The Musquash. 163 



good position and giving him as good as three hands to work 
with, when he would skin one Aery quickly. Then taking a 
withy stick from a pile of hazel bush butts, about three or 
three and a half feet long, would bend it to fit, leaving one 
part six inches longer than the other, slip the hide over 
(turned inside out) use the long end below as a spreader, and 
it was ready for drying, and the market. Their tent was 
open, showing the inside very tidy, their washing hanging 
upon the trees. A small beech, with its branches lopped off 
was well decked out with bright tin dippers, pails, fry pan, 
etc., while beneath a thick spruce that had its branches 
trimmed off below, was sitting the quiet sister, her deft fingers 
rapidly moving, making beautiful fancy baskets, a number 
already finished hanging upon the green branches. 

The novelty of the scene was the girls ; comely, though 
they were brownies ; dressed alike, and at first as we stepped 
ashore at the father's invitation, we took them for twin 
Indian maidens, with bright, black eyes, hair black and shiny, 
braided, and the long, thick plaits hanging down over the 
scarlet shawls that were each fastened in front with a large 
silver brooch, from which were ever swaying, as they moved 
about, small chains with little charms attached, making 
altogether a bright picture, coming upon them in a moment, 
as we did, so unexpected, and the scene being quite unusual. 

What was a little unlooked for from our red brother as we 
stopped and saluted them all, was the invitation to land. 
"Spose stopum rest little time, brudder," (which we did) . 
They had been out two weeks, and asking the girls if they 
enjoyed camping and canoeing, one of them, her black eyes 
sparkling, "Oh yes," she answered, "guess me likum much; 
alius go wid fadder and take care of him ; cook, wash, 



164 The Aroostook Woods. 

catchem trouts, too ;" and lively she chatted on for an Indian 
girl, doing all the talking for herself and quiet sister, who 
hardly said a word to us, but always had a pleasant smile for 
her cheery, laughing sister. 

One part of the make-up of this quiet camping scene has 
often come to mind when cooking musqua — beg pardon, 
when speaking of cooking the musquash. Half-way from 
the tent to the river, in a hollow place that Nature had 
formed, just perfect for the purpose, was driven three beech 
stakes, about five feet long, their ends withed together at the 
top, each slanting well out at the bottom. To these was 
hanging from a stout beech hook, withed on above, a small 
old-fashioned cooking pot, three-legged and round bottom. 
This, the lively girl remarked, had belonged to her two 
"grand fadders, and no breakum, long time velly." Beneath 
the fire was built in the true Indian style, the wood laid up to 
a peak, the small blaze immediately under the pot ; the tin 
plate for a cover was raising and falling with the ste-am, emit- 
ting a savory smell on the air, and we asked : 

"What are you cooking, brother?" 

"Oh, he musquash stew." 

"How do you make it?" 

"Oh, plently musquash, piece poke, onion, potato, 
cookum altogedder, velly long time, velly slow. No havum 
onion, go dig 11111 down shore," (meaning the small wild 
onion). "Sometime findum 'sheepnoc' putum him in 
too, he good." (Sheepnoc is the bulb of one of the wild 
lilies). "Say boys, spose you likum musquash stew, good; 
you stay eatum some?" 

We thanked him kindly and after examining his spruce 
bark smoke-house, nearly filled with partly cured saddles of 



Tiik Musquash. 16^ 



musquash, admiring it also, with which he was much pleased, 
we touched the tips of our ringers to our lips and waived an 
adieu to each of his rather pretty brownies, the one so grave 
and quiet, now frowning; the other so bright and pleasing, 
with a cheery smile for us to the last, as we stepped in our 
canoe and paddled on, down the Mattawamkeag. 



DOWN THE MATTAWAMKEAG. 



AT a settlers' new made clearing, 
On the rarely travelled highway ; 
Ends their night ride and their teaming, 
Just as it is breaking day. 

Then turn about the pretty ponies, 

Heading for their home again ; 
While two sporting, friendly cronies, 

Look about them for the lane. 

Now with knapsack, bag and blanket, 

Axe and rifle, and a store 
Of home-made bread, with pork and doughnuts, 

Hasten to the river shore. 

Down half a mile of grassy old road, 

'Neath dewey boughs and dripping trees ; 

There laid down the heavy back load, 
Scolded by the screaming jays. 

Find they in the shady thicket, 

Roofed with bark, their birch canoe ; 

Half a year though they had left it, 
Still it was as good as new. 



Down the Mattawamkeag. 167 



Soon upon the upmost branching 
Of the wildest Mattawamkeag; 

All was ready, then the launching, 
Each with paddle dips ahead. 

Down the narrow, rippling river, 
Every moment growing swifter ; 

Dewy alders dripping ever, 
All the way to open water. 

Yet a little while they now wait, 
At a clear and pebbly trout pool ; 

With enticing angle worm bait, 
Taking largest from the school. 

As the glorious sun is showing 
O'er eastern hill top, just above ; 

Leave behind the swiftly flowing, 
Paddling through pond lily cove. 

O'er the first broad water shining, 
In early sunlight, birds are singing; 

Speckled beauties often leaping, 

Close beside the wood-ducks feeding. 

Tarry once again, in hiding, 
At the brook for winter fishing ; 

Soon the wood-drake bv is swimming, 
Small the thought had he of dying. 



On bv meadow shores with writings, 
Speaking oft of musquash feedings 

Where the mink was lately fishing, 
And a point with otter slidings. 



68 The Aroostook Woods. 



Hark ! they hear the waters rushing, 
Just below they hear the fall ; 

Just above a deer is crossing, 
Yet she lives to rear her fawn. 

The baby deer was just behind her, 

Fearing much to cross at all ; 
Then shied back to thicker cover. 

Hark ! hear its mother's whistling call. 

To escape the rapid's rock way, 
They must carry near a mile ; 

Which to them is only boy play, 
Chatting, marching, single file. 

Through the woodland and the meadows, 
A fourth the distance as by stream ; 

And they stand beside the rapids, 
On the west branch of the same. 

Here they boil the blackened kettle, 
Or its contents, all the same ; 

Eat their luncheon, not a little, 

Speckled beauties from the stream. 

Now with a coal light the smoke pipe, 
Then again their jolly quick flight; 

Down sunny waters, pretty sight, 
Through the rapids with delight. 

Down, down the ever flowing, 

Ever singing, never wean ; 
Gentle zephyrs softly blowing, 

While each cronie greets them cheery. 



Down the Mattawamkeag. 169 



They enjoy their happy boating, 
On the waters swift and clear; 

Ever gaily downward floating, 
Till the lakeside does appear. 

By the right bank's quiet shade, 

Duplicated down below ; 
!By the glen and by the glade, 

Slowlv now the waters flow. 

w 

Then through the centre of the river, 
In the sunlight bright and clear, 

Dip their paddles, flashing ever, 
To the lake now drawing near. 

Now by the left bank, all is ripen, 
Hill and dale and downward incline, 

Decked in golden shades of autumn, 

Wrapped in gorgeous mellow sunshine. 

Lake Mattawamkeag ! quiet, still}, 
( )Vr its broad waters just a ripple, 

As hv the cove and sweet pond lily, 
Trolling, caught the golden pickerel. 

Paddling on as breezes freshen 

From the southland soft and lightly ; 

Wavelets lifting up the bow end, 
On she dances, gay and sprightly. 

Past the coves and rocky islands, 
By the shores and leafy arches; 

All up the ridge is golden woodland, 
Down below are drooping larches. 



170 The Aroostook Woods. 



Now a dam across the waters, 
Narrow waters at the outlet; 
Built by man and not by beavers, 

Flowing back to upper inlet. 

Many waters thus confining, 

Flowing every cove and jutting ; 

Held in check for spring-time driving, 
Of the lumber, — winter's cutting. 

Strong the dam, built with an incline, 
Rocky walls each side assisting ; 

With its gate to hoist at spring-time. 
When the lumbermen are sluicing. 

And the trout pool, 'neath the apron, 
Deep from water always pouring; 

Here thev find the choicest fishing. 
Jolly fine the chance for camping. 

In the cheerful earlv morning, 
Pleasant Indian summer time ; 

Thev are out to see the dawning, 
On the dam, with hook and line. 

Mists are rising from the river. 

Rosy is the eastern sky ; 
Few such mornings seldom ever. 

Happy hearts the reason why. 

Here in God's country, all are happy, 
Birds are singing everywhere ; 

Trout are leaping from the rapids, 
Squirrels chasing on the shore. 



Dowx the Mai tawamkeag. 



'7 1 



Breakfast over, then the question, 

" Shall we carry by the falls?" 
" It is better, all's confusion, 

Jagged rocks, projecting walls." 

•• But they told us of a roadway 

Through the waters, by the jutting ;" 

"All serene, though that was hearsay, 
We can only get a ducking." 

Each one ready, keen and steady, 

Swift and lightly on they go, 
Flying downward o'er the maelstrom, 

Like an arrow from the bow. 

Steersman standing, set pole trailing, 

Calm and fearless, has a care ; 
With his paddle, bow man kneeling, 

Figures for an inch to spare. 

IIo ! the whirlpool, at the jutting, 

To swap horses, no time now ; 
Waters rushing, set pole snapping, 

Deluged is the stern and bow. 

IIo ! on the right hand see the big rock, 

All are jagged on the left, 
With scarce a passage for a wood-duck, 

Both now feel the birch bark rift. 

Now looking back, they see the right way, 
See the way they should have come through ; 

How they wish thev had old " hearsay " 
1 1 itched behind their birch canoe. 



ij- Tin: Aroostook Woods. 

Well beyond the rocky raceway 
Shooting downward yet they go ; 

Then to shore beside the eddy 
To drain out the birch canoe. 

Now with spruce root neatly stitching 
While turned to the sun and drying ; 

Afterward a little pitching 
On again and swiftly flying. 

Far ahead see waters bonny 

Far behind the ••dam the jutting ; " 

Thus did joke the stern end cronie 
.VII recovered from his ducking. 

Shorter grow their moving shadows 

At the quiet hour of noonday ; 
Passing by the hill of echoes 

By the deer glade and their pathway. 

Now they hear the merry brooklet. 

Hear its murmuring, purling, running; 

Stop they here to broil the trontlet. 

Dry their blankets, have their luncheon. 

Sitting by the murmuring brookside 
Dinner over, scrape tomahwee ; 

Dry it on the heated rockside, 
Mix it half and half tobacco. 

Fill they then the calumet, 

Light it with a coal of hardwood ; 

Few there are so happily met 

As these cronies in the wildwood. 



Down the M vttawamkbag. f 73 



Lovely day in Indian summer 

On the banks beneath the green tree ; 
A la mode de Indian dinner 

Fragrant smoke of half tomahwee, 

Which goes sailing out to midstream, 
Slowly moving skyward lazily; 

And above them in the evergreen 
Upward rising, curling, dreamily. 

|nst below a plover calling, 

Sand, peeps on the shore are bowing; 
Moose birds handy by are waiting 

For the pickings at the ending. 

\s oft before now dip they outward, 
Outward o'er the calm, still water; 

Always moving to the southward 
Always meeting new in nature. 

( )n Mattawamkeag's upper river 
Currents vary, changing ever; 

Pleasure marring? none whatever! 
To its beauty adding, rather. 

Still\ waters, always charming, 
Leaping rapids, not alarming. 

Wicked rocks 'twere well avoiding, 
Always jolly if not harming. 

And lovely are its placid mirroi 

Where all is resting; quiet leaves, 

Tranquil waters, sleeping shadows, 
Trailing mo^cs wait the breeze. 



i74 



The Aroostook Woods. 



Slowly drifting on such mirrors, 
Silent, quiet, dreamily thinking ; 

Oft come quickly little terrors, 

Then wide awake, to guard from sinking. 

Again they hear the rivulet, 

Music suited to the wildwood ; 
Oh, they never can forget 

The brooklets merry, singing mood. 

Ahead they see the snowy eddy 
White with little balls of foam ; 

"Hold the bark a moment, steady,*' 

" Skip your flies, then trail them home." 

Shipping's often out in midstream, 

See ! leaping gaily in the air ; 
The like of this not often seen, 

Trout are jumping everywhere. 

Leaping from the snowy eddy 

Ever willing to accept ; 
Always one or more are ready 

To come in from out the wet. 

Flip, flap, floppity, "High: 

Hold the net paid, I have two." 

"And the third one, ain't they spry?" 
" Let her go pard, that'l do." 

Swiftly gliding, much enjoying, 

Both sit gazing naught to do ; 
Paddle moving, simply toying 

Merely guiding the canoe. 



Down the Mattawamkeag. [75 



Listen ! — Coming to join are other waters, 
Both are calling, both together 

Around the narrow point of alders 
Soon embracing each the other. 

Leave behind the pleasing wildwood, 
All is tame around them here ; 

Just before them bridge and stage road, 
Cow bells tinkling by the mere. 

Civilization thus approaching 

Breaks the charm of forest roving: ; 

When sheep instead of deer are feeding, 
Hie they quickly by the clearing. 



Paddling by the pretty village 
Nestling in the sunny valley, 

Salute the prude upon the bridge, 
Now again their spirits rally. 

For below them plainly showing 
They see the forest once again ; 

In the sunshine mellow, glowing, 
Dip the paddles, steady strain. 

Welcome, wild and pretty forest, 
Once again they greet thee cheerily, 

All so fully filled with interest 

Well they love thy pleasing harmony. 

Now floating down the long, still water, 
Close to shore, they hear the streamlet, 

And with its song a maiden's laughter, 
Low and rippling as the brooklet. 



176 The Aroostook Woods. 

Brook and maiden sins: together 

Laughing, singing maid and brooklet ; 

The cronies gaze one to the other 
Wondering had the faries met. 

Dipping outward from the shadows 
The fairy camp was all in view ; 

An Indian with two comely daughters 
Tent and fire and birch canoe. 

An Indian trapper and his daughters 
Camping by the charming river, 

Trapping musquash on its waters 
Each one helping one another. 

Slightly startled were the brownies, 

Not a whit disturbed the father. 
As just glancing to the maidens 

Asks, "will stop you rest my brudder?" 

Singing daughter, smiling, pleasing, 
They much admiring happy camping ; 

The father cordially inviting, 
Cronies step out at the landing. 

Find they there a happy grouping. 

"Laughing Water" musquash cooking; 
A quiet sister basket making, 

Dear old fader musquash skinning. 

Each maiden wore a shawl of scarlet 
Fastened each with brooch of silver 

Which " Laughing Water" says "is much old, 
Cause once belonged to two "rand mudder." 



Down the Mattawamkeag. 177 

Cross and charms hang from the breast pin, 

Hear and beaver, Indian totem ; 
Pendants tinkling at each turning, 

" Laughing Water" often shook them. 

Quiet sister 'neath the shade tree, 

Prettiest baskets hang above her ; 
Her downcast eyes they seldom see, 

Her heart is with her Indian lover. 

44 Laughing Water," quite bewitching 

Sits gaily chatting with a cronie ; 
Tell's him of her jolly fishing, 

Speaks lovingly of sister brownie. 

And often laughing with the brooklet, 

Her merry words are ever flowing ; 
While cronie with his ready wit 

Delights to keep the music going. 

While the father tells a cronie 

Much about his trapping, hunting, 
When he was in his prime and hardy, 

And of the deer, in winter herding. 

Of how he caught for winter use 

More'n any udder Indian man ; 
Deer and musquash, big bull moose, 

Dried and smoked the pemican. 

•• Laughing Water" nods to father 

As the cronies rise to leave them — 
• • Spose my brudders stop to supper, 

Likeum musquash, you much welcome." 



1 7S The Aroostook Woods. 

But the sun now in the far west 
With their camping yet to do, 

Kindly thank him for his goodness 
Step on board their birch canoe. 

''Laughing water," with her father 
Standing by them on the shore, 

To the last they merry find her 

Asking cronies, "come some more." 

Salute the girls, good bye to fader 

As they dip to dip ahead, 
Another smile from " Laughins: Water," 

Then, down the shadowed Mattawamkeag 




STILL HUNTING, 



DEER TRACKING. 



AFTER a storm is the best time to look for a deer, as the 
tracks show plainer for us to follow if after a rain 
storm, and if snow, one knows just how freshly made. Besides 
he has been lying by in the swamp, beneath the thick ever- 
greens, feeding but little during the storm, and is now hungry, 
and will travel slowly, feeding longer at his stopping places. 
He loves to wander around the foot of the ridges next the 
swamps, rinding the browse more thrifty and plenty, and is 
handy to his favorite brook. Now this morning, if we would 
get one, we will start out real early, for he is up himself at 
daylight and already on his tramp whilst we are eating our 
breakfast. If not pretty sure of one quite handy, let us take 
our luncheon and a very light hunting axe, matches and our 
compass, always, for we are not sure of the sun remaining 
all the day out to guide us. We will travel against the wind 
all we can, keeping it in our faces as much as possible, then 
if we find fresh tracks going to windward we are pretty sure 
of a shot. 

Here the leaves have been disturbed and are turned wet 
side up, and beneath we find the print of his foot ; there, it is 



Deer Tracking. iSi 



plainer as his foot pushed a leaf down, the edges standing up 
like a cup, and now here in the soft earth is the full print of 
his foot ; we will keep on this course as it is his line of travel ; 
we see fresh bitings, and there he has actually stopped to feed 
a few moments. If the sun is shining out, an occasional 
glance toward it will keep our reckoning ; if not, we must 
refer often to the compass, to have the course we are travel- 
ling always in mind, so at the end of the hunt we can tell 
readily what our course must be to return. A deer at his 
ease, and feeding along, moves slowly and quietly ; we 
should do the same rather than hurry or make any sudden 
movements. 

And now let us not shoot a brother hunter, and in fact we 
think no person should shoot at anything in the woods, when 
he sees something moving, until he is sure it is the game. It 
would be better to never shoot a deer than to have a lifelong 
regret. Ninty-nine times out of one hundred, if it is really 
the deer we see moving we k?zow it is a deer and are sure 
of it. So there seems no excuse whatever for the man that 
shoots at random, saying, I thought it a deer. 

If we get in sight of one and are so unlucky as to jump him 
before getting in our shot, we will not give it up altogether, 
for he, perhaps, only saw something odd, and likely never 
before saw a man in his life, and will have the curiosity to 
get another look at us. He often runs away a piece and stops 
hidden in a handy thicket on the knoll, where he can look 
back as we follow. Seeing such a cover, and knowing his 
style of manouvering, and his watching to see what we are, 
coming after him on only two legs, we do not gratify him by 
going straight to him, to see him kick out and run off again, 
but make a detour and circling around out of his sight, keep- 



i S3 The Aroostook Woods. 

ioor th e wind of him (or certainly not allowing him to have 
it from us,) and come upon him from another quarter, and 
get a shot whilst he is looking earnestly toward our last 
whereabouts. 

Now we will not miss looking such chances carefully over, 
if he has not had the wind of us, for he will stop most always 
in some thicker chance, and much prefers high knolls when he 
can look over the ground. If not seeing him at first we 
should get a good position behind a tree large enough to hide 
us and wait and watch a little, listening too, for if a brave 
buck and he sees us, he is often now stamping his foot in 
anger at being approached. And again at times he may take 
quite a run, and sometimes circles around himself, to see, or 
smell for us. Even after the second or third wild jumping, 
their curiosity has been known to often be the death of them. 
But if he once gets a good sniff of you from the breeze he 
will telegraph this to you by blowing his whistle, and this 
always means a good long run away and we must seek 
another's track. 

He is on foot by daybreak, and feeding from nine to twelve, 
when he most always lies down to sleep awhile in the warmest 
part of the day, and takes a sunny chance on the leeward side 
of a thicket, or a sunny knoll where he will lie with his eye 
on his tracks at the first, as if watching for danger from 
something following them. Coming to such a chance, if 
tracking over snow, you sometimes can read his programme 
quite a piece ahead of you by his tracks, as he always stops a 
moment, looks back, and taking a step or two each way, will 
look to all the points of the compass to see if any danger lurks 
near his ruminating chance, sometimes stepping back on his 
tracks a rod or two to make doubly sure of his safety before 



Deer Tracking. 1S3 



lying down. Seeing this writing on the snow 3011 step back- 
ward and sly away out of his sight, remarking as you do so : 
''now if I had my duck gun and buck shot you might jump 
as high as you please, and I should take you on the fly." But 
you walk right away from him as if gone, and marking the 
very spot you know he lies in, by some tree or clump of them, 
circle around and use all your strategy to see him before he 
sees you, and not give him the wind of yon. He is dozing, 
one eye half open, and is always most too quick " o' hearin ; ' 
and when first seen it is often with his head down, pitching 
for the lowest hollow at the first jump, his black heels and 
white tail are seen in the air once or twice and he is gone. 
Or if you are below him and he must run up the hill, he will 
bounce from right to left as if to dodge the bullet. If you do 
not down him, note his range, again try the detour plan, 
w r atching keenly to see him first if possible. 

After tracking a deer over the light snow from early morn- 
ing until eleven o'clock, I came in sight of a thicket of young 
fir trees into which the track was leading, when just ahead of 
me and within three or four rods I saw he had been back as 
usual to look around before lying down, leaving three tracks 
with the one I had been following. Knowing he was very 
handy, I took a step to one side to get out of his eight, when 
immediately I saw him jumping away through the evergreens. 
I had approached a little too near and he had heard or seen 
me. Following his jumps until he commenced his walking, 
I moved away to the right far enough to be surely out of h:s 
sight and then hurried on the same way he was going for a 
good piece, and again struck up to look for his track. After 
passing away by his probable line of travel, I was satisfied I 
was ahead of him, and turning down again I found his tracks 



1 84 The Aroostook Woods. 

and saw he had turned back toward his sleeping chance. 
Pretty well assured this walking back again was curiosity, and 
that he evidently would return to this course, I sat down a little 
up the ridge in a thicket and took the chances of waiting for 
him. Presently far away I saw him through the open growth 
coming back with an easy gait, now satisfied the way was 
clear and that nothing was following him. Waiting until he 
was nearly opposite, one shot was fired, and he dropped in 
his tracks. 

To get a deer in this manner, in the proper season when 
they are fat and fine eating, is, we claim, the most sportsman- 
like and the most pleasurable, satisfactory way. But to kill 
them late in the winter, and even toward spring, when they 
become miserably poor from not being able to range about 
through the deep and crusty snow, often four and five feet 
deep in Aroostook, seems most too cruel and must prove to 
be really unsatisfactory when they come to eat the meat. 

When a rain comes upon these deep snows, wetting down 
three or four inches, then a still, freezing night, a crust is 
formed which bears up the pot hunter on his snow-shoes upon 
the top of it, while the deer with his sharp pointed feet, 
punches through at each jump. They are then started from 
their yard, or the few well trodden paths, and their first jumps 
are high and wild, being frightened fearfully by the yells of 
the crust hunters. They sink deep in the snow at each jump ; 
the sharp crust cuts like a knife, first chafing off the hair 
from the legs, then the flesh is cut, torn, and bleeding, and 
when they can go no further, they turn meekly toward their 
pursuers, and those eyes, so almost human, seem to ask plead- 
ingly for their life. This way of hunting them is cruel and 
is not as sports?nen do ; and there are but few extenuating 



Deer Tracking. 185 



circumstances in such cases. If a settler, far from any market, 
with a family of little ones, sees their faces pale for want of 
such nourishment, goes beyond his field and brings in a deer, 
he is not to be condemned. If the trapper, far beyond civiliza- 
tion, finds his stock of food has run out through unforseen 
circumstances, and he can shoot down a deer or caribou, and 
takes care of it, consuming it for food, the law might also 
excuse him. 

But those fellows that start out for what they call fun, on 
the first suitable crust, find a family of deer confined to a few 
paths, over an acre or less of feeding ground, hemmed in by 
the sharp crust on the deep snow, growing poorer every day, 
being obliged to feed from the stumps of the sprouts from 
which they fed at the first of their yarding up, confined until 
they had eaten all their browse within reach, and now gnaw- 
ing the maple bark and even eating cedar boughs, perhaps 
unable to get to the brook they love so well, which may not 
be but a little way from them, and not a particle of fat upon 
their thin, shrunken bodies, their mournful eyes saying to the 
hunters, "we are poor and famished for want of suitable 
food, even the more thirsty from eating snow these many days. 
Pray do not kill us now, you can see we are not fit for food, 
and our skins are worth nothing, for they are so thin, that 
they would shed the thick hair at each shake. Please allow 
us to live until the crust is made thicker and harder after the 
rain, which we know is coming soon, when we will walk 
away carefully upon the top of it to a new feeding chance by 
the clear brook, and not be so famished. We will promise 
to get real round and fat by next October, then if you get one 
of us, it will not be so heartlessly cruel." 

But these men will not see their mild, pleading eyes ; they 



1 86 The Aroostook Woods. 

only see "deer! deer! at 'em boys !" Out of the yard they 
must jump, the old buck or strong doe taking the lead ; the 
baby deer the last, jumps in the larger one's tracks as well as 
he can, but he is weak and the first one to be sacrificed. His 
little legs have found the bottom, made loose by the others 
before him ; he is soon fast and cannot make another jump. 
His strength was soon used up, as his breakfast was simply 
sucking the stubbs of sprouts the older ones left. He looks 
pleadingly toward his relentless pursuers, and surely they 
will let this little baby deer live. But no ; they are now deaf 
to its pitiful cry, and he counts, and they want to brag of 
the number they sacrifice. So on hurries a fat, oily-faced, 
red-cheeked fellow, that weighs one hundred and sixty-five, 
age about twenty, with broad shoulders and fat, short legs ; 
in fact his whole exterior speaks of a good appetite and 
plenty of pork and beans at home. " Hurrah ! " he cries, and 
plants his snow-shoe shod feet plump upon his back, crushing 
him still deeper in the snow. The poor lamb gives two or 
three plaintive bleats, but he whips out a long, murderous 
looking bowie knife, seizes him by the nostrils, bends his head 
back between his knees and cuts his throat, murderer fashion, 
from ear to ear, then leaves him lying there, to hasten on after 
the other fellows, wdio are overpowering the lamb's mother 
that they met coming back to the bleating lamb. She too is 
soon no more, with the same ghastly gash across her throat. 
On they go until every one shares the same fate. They save 
a few almost worthless skins (for at this time they are very 
thin indeed, though the hair is very thick upon them) too 
thin for anything but a lining, bringing perhaps thirty or 
forty cents apiece. 

The boys are a long ways from home, and can only carry 



Deer Tracking. 187 



a hide and a quarter each away with them. The balance 
they may bury in the snow, saying, we will come next 
Saturday and haul it home on the crust. Before the time 
comes round, the rain likely spoils the snow-shoeing and 
their sledding ; consequently it is left to rot in the spring sun- 
shine, or become food for the meat-eating wild animals. 

But thanks to the late better game laws, for a change ; and 
thanks to nearly all the boys, too, for the most of them are 
honest sportsmen, and abhor such cruelty as this unmanly 
way of hunting. 

Two boys in midwinter found a deer yard within a half 
mile from camp. In it was the mother and two lambs. Four 
feet of snow and a crust would likely keep them there some 
time in their well-fed down paths. The deer ran to the end 
of their beat, and as the boys backed away from them, the 
deer stood with raised heads looking at them. The next day 
the boys visited them again, each with hunting axe, and this 
time the deer merely walked a little out of their way and 
were in sight during the time the boys were cutting them a 
good quantity of their favorite browse, enough to give them a 
good feast. This, they repeated every day or two, until a 
rain and soft snow liberated them ; the deer in the mean 
time becoming almost tame. This was just no work to do, 
only a pleasure for the boys, and they would not at that time 
have shot one of them if paid the amount of the fine which 
they would be liable to, for so doing. 

Yarding up of deer, caribou and moose is only on account 
of deep snows and their crusty surfaces. They get along 
pretty well, wading about up to their knees, until some heavy 
storm comes upon them, lasting perhaps for days, ending 
with rain and a freeze, and then they find themselves confined 



i SS The Aroostook Woods. 

right there for a time. The red deer is the first to be obliged 
to aeeept close quarters ; next the moose, when the snow is 
very deep, and lastly, the large footed caribou. Yet they 
seem to know what is coming and nearly always find some 
well-known lowland feeding ground beside the brook, before 
they are snowed in upon the ridges or barrens. Handy by 
the clear running, almost always open brook, is their favorite 
place for yarding, more especially the deer and the moose. 
The caribou is a hardy, independent fellow, and yards only 
when the deep snows are light and loose beneath, and the 
crust upon the top is sharp and knifey. 

As we have said, the small spring brooks are scarcely ever 
frozen, and if ever, it is in some rather exposed place; even 
then the deer will often put his foot through and find nice 
water to drink, the same as always open in the swamps as it 
is in winter, warm spring water, protected by the thick 
growth of eversfreens and the warm ground which is also 
kept from freezing by the snow continually falling from early 
winter until late in the spring. The cold winds sweeping 
over only the tops of the trees, from off the ridges, and losing 
much of its power before reaching the low lands, where runs 
the spring brooks the deer love so well. And down below 
these friendly warm trees, the fir, spruce, hemlock and cedar, 
it is like another climate, quite warm compared with the 
ridges. Camping in such localities, we never, in the coldest 
weather, find any frost to interfere with pushing down the 
crotches to support our tent poles ; so the deer can always 
find his favorite spring water in these evergreen lowlands ; not 
warmer water than in summer of course, but warm and 
elegant compared with that from the lakes and exposed 
streams outside. Here the deer when at first yarding, will 



D E ER T K AC K I NG . I 89 



walk about but little, yet feed until mid-day, visit the brook 
for a drink, perhaps cross, and try the sprouts upon the other 
side, buck or doe leading, whilst the young follow in their 
tracks, making but few paths the first day, as they do not 
tramp down large yards as some might suppose. (These 
yards, so called, are usually but paths, they following after 
each other in near the same track, all lying down within a 
few feet of each other at night, and the hunter can tell after 
seeing this sleeping place the next morning, the number of 
old and young, and their sex, as readily as if he had seen them 
all standing there). 

The next day the snow may fall steadily and perhaps con- 
tinue all through the night following, yet they having found 
good pickings on these paths already made, still keep in 
their old tracks, breaking out no new path, again visit the 
brook at noon for a drink, then turn back on the old path a 
little way and lie down for their usual mid-day rest, then up 
again and around, to feed until near night and only over their 
very few paths. The snow is deep enough now to keep them 
in these old roads for days. Then comes the rain and 
immediately after the freeze, and this settles the question for 
them in regard to new roads to get better feeding. Their old 
path is now excellent walking, while all outside of them is 
sharp crust and they continue to follow only in their hard 
track, finding poor feeding until the next rain or a thaw 
softens the crust, when they sometimes wade slowly around, 
making new roads, or perhaps over the ridge to another 
brook or branch of the same. 

Toward spring, often after a very long rain storm, wetting 
the snow well down, the night changing to still and cold, 
gives them a crust which delights them, for now, they can 




C/3 

w 

o 

CO 

O 

CO 

Q 
O 

o 
o 

M 
O 
H 

W 
M 
H 



Deer Tracking. 



191 



walk away on the thick, icy crust to where they choose, 
and at times scarcely leaving footprints to be seen and 
followed by the crust hunter. 

Then it is, if a fellow, early in the morning, was handy 
enough to them, we will say sitting just overhead in a scrubby 
hemlock tree (though the dear, gracious, goodness only knows 
how in the world he ever came to be there so very early on 
such a cold morning) he would plainly hear them singing in 
low cheery, deery tones, yet quite a little louder and stronger 
of voice than the "singing shad," which the old fishermen tell 
of. The young buck would take the bass now, in place of his 
father that was killed the winter before ; the mother now lead- 
ing the band, while the young buck follows in the rear of all, 
to protect his youngest sister, and is ever on the "qui vive" 
for any danger, as he listens to, and follows just after his 
mother in the happy song, which is one of their very few 
wildwood harmonies. 

THE QUICKSTEP TO WINDWARD. 

Oh happy deer are we, 
Now that we are set free, 
As we up and away, 
At the first peep of day. 

To the south, o'er the hill, 
To the brook and the rill ; 
Where the young maples grow, 
And the winds softly blow. 

Through the evergreens warm, 
That may hide us from harm, 
Till the sun's brighter rays, 
Shall give the warm days. 



192 The Aroostook Woods. 

When the crusts disappear, 
Then with nothing to fear, 
We'll again roam at will, 
Through the dingle and dell. 

As the last note of their happy song floats away to leeward, 
the young buck adds, "And without more trembling and 
fear, of the well-fedy«/ boy on his snow-shoes coming after 
us with his great home blacksmith made bowie knife, with a 
piece of our father's horns for the handle." 



FISHING THROUGH THE ICE. 



ABOUT the middle of March, in Aroostook waters, the 
trout in his darkened home beneath the thick ice, 
begins to frisk about and show a fresh appetite. A few can 
be caught at almost any time during the winter, by cutting 
holes through the ice over the quiet, deep places near the 
incoming streams, in the coves and at the inlets of the lakes, 
but they do not take the bait readily until spring. This is as 
it should be ; they should be left in undisturbed quiet when 
they say to us so plainly : " we are having a rest." From the 
first of winter when the ice forms, until the lakes and streams 
are again opened by the warm rains and the sunshine, they 
are in poor condition from spawning, and feeding but little 
while lying upon the bottom, just under the mud and sedi- 
ment, where the water in winter is much the warmer, though 
in the summer quite the cooler. 

By cutting a hole through the ice in shoal, or even quite 
deep water, if it is clear, on a bright day, and kneeling down 
with eyes close to the water and your overcoat thrown over 
your head, the bright light excluded except a small ray at one 
place, then watching the bottom closely and keeping the bait 



194 The Aroostook Woods. 

moving, the trout can be seen. Perhaps at the first a slight 
movement, showing nose and head, then their wriggling out 
leaving a roily swirl behind them as they dart to seize the bait. 

Away back in our early sporting days, when the trout were 
so plenty that they could be caught in every shady pool, and 
were to be seen at morning and evening in the mellow sun- 
light, leaping from the waters in quick succession, and for 
mere sport often, as well as for the flies in the air just above 
and those fluttering upon the surface ; when this animating 
sight was quite the usual thing to see all up and down the 
quiet streams, upon the lakes, at the inlets, and in the grassy 
coves, we often went winter faking" and caught them through 
the ice. 

We remember a month of March as proving an unusually 
mild one, when old boreas ceased his unwelcome visits for 
near the whole month and the icy storms came not upon us. 
When only one half to an inch of snow fell occasionally, and 
this at night ; and after the cool nights, the early mornings 
were mild and hazy until the sun breaking out making all 
clear as a bell, relieving the enameled trees and their ice 
encircled branches and twigs, and drinking the diamond drops 
hanging from the buds. With maiiy sunny days for boisterous 
March, with warm southerly winds which were most favora- 
ble for winter fishing. 

And early in this pleasant month looking out over the fields 
one morning, where the winter snows were piled up level with 
the fence tops, watching the small boys coasting down to the 
river, then on it and away over the smooth, white ice and out 
of sight, soon toiling back to repeat their jolly slide, the crust 
bearing them well up, only the light track of their moccasined 
feet and sled runners showing in the light snow upon the 



Fishing Through the Ice. 195 

crust, and such elegant snow-shoeing that we began thinking, 
for all this, with the mild weather, was very suggestive. 
Soon we espy Joe coming on his snow-shoes, when we imme- 
diately mistrust that he likewise is somewhat unsettled a bit, 
wavering as to things under the circumstances ; and as he 
appeared before us we see he too has caught it, for his flushed 
cheek and shining- eves show a high stage of the trouting 
fever coming on, from a hankering after the lakes. Compar- 
ing notes, we agree that the only medicine, pleasant to take, 
and a sure cure for this contagious fever, will be to take a 
trip to the camp. Accordingly, the next day saw us off for 
the bonny lakes. 

With the pung well stowed w r ith such indispensable articles 
as were needed for the trip, and such stores as we were out 
of at camp, our toboggans tied upon the load, we drove out 
and through the town, lively with many teams and the busy 
hum and rustle of business. Away over the hills, holding up 
and stopping ever and often at the "turn out to pass by 
chances" on the way, to allow the many heavily loaded teams, 
nearly and often all the road. These always very numerous 
were more so this pleasant month, going to the village, often 
half a dozen or more in line. Many boxed up loads of pota- 
toes, covered with blankets and rugs to insure against freezing 
at starting (often before daylight) and later to keep off the 
sunshine. Heavy loads of leather from the tannery ; long and 
short lumber, shingles, knees, rift, butts, clapboards, pressed 
hay, grain, wood of all kinds, hemlock bark, and farmers 
with their exchanges. Nearly every team right merrily hurry- 
ing forward for town. Some slipping down the hills with 
break applied, others toiling up the rise bevond, to stop and 
chat with those already resting there, obliging us to break out 



ic}6 The Aroostook Woods. 

a new turn out around them, through the crust. All heading 
for the village, the depot, and a market, delaying us often as 
we met them on the levels at the turn outs. 

But all things have an end, and they gradually grow less in 
number as we pass the scattering farm houses and trot gaily 
down the distant hills, soon leaving them all behind with 
nearly the last of civilization, as we turn off and over the long 
rise, and then down to the nearly unbroken forest. On 
through the quiet evergreens, the road now running east and 
west ; even the south wind does not reach us, and we find it 
here at this time as warm as the month of June. The well 
trodden roads are thawing in the sun, allowing the pung to 
slip along after our horse like a feather weight as he skips on 
at a lively trot through the thick growth, the sparkling crust 
beside us being just on a level with the pung seat upon which 
we are sitting. A partridge that is sunning himself at the 
edge of the road, ruffles his plumage and elevates his small 
crest at being disturbed, then goes walking daintily away over 
the crust just out of our sight, but to return to his sun bath 
after our passing. Next a rabbit is seen, that is well used to 
the roadside, and the pickings of dried clover heads falling 
off the loads of hay, as well as the more thrifty buds growing 
in the light and sunshine. He deigns not to move as we pass 
him, sitting half asleep on the sunny side of the firs, but his 
temerity costs him dearly, as he is wanted at the camp. 

As the sun beyond us, a little to the left, is creeping down- 
ward on its way, lengthening out our shadows on the crust 
that are ever following us behind, we make the last turn on 
our road and are soon at the end of our journey by team. 
Here leaving buffalo coats, wraps, and our foot-wear for 
riding, we pull on many extra stockings and over these our 



Fishing Through the Ice. 197 

soft tanned moosehide moccasins ; pack our load from the 
pung upon the toboggans, and lash them in such a manner 
that should we upset occasionally we can tip back again all 
solid as before. Slipping on the show-shoes, we are ready, 
and away, on our three mile tramp (playing horse) and 
really enjoying it much over such a fine crust, with the moon 
keeping us company on the way, over our north and south 
blazed line, through the now really wild, unbroken forest to 
the hunting lodge. Almost every rod of the way is familiar 
to us, from our landmarks ; the lay of the land, the brooks, a 
clump of evergreens, the rocky rise and quick descent, then 
along the side of the ridge close to the swamp, the beeches on 
the knoll and the merry little brooks. 

Having all the time there is, we take the up grades slowly, 
often resting on the top a moment and admiring the lovely 
moonlit forest, so still and quiet everywhere among its lights 
and shadows. On such an evening the nightly ramblers were 
no doubt abroad as usual, but excepting "bunny," with his 
bright eyes at this time wide open, as he skipped away from 
our moving shadows, and a night warbler overhead in the 
thick spruce trees, favoring us with a short song, all seemed 
at quiet rest. 

Coming to the down grades, we take the webbing from our 
shoulders, with which we haul the toboggans, and guiding 
the sleds outside the track, and along beside us, take an Indian 
lope down to the long levels below, which again require but 
little exertion to pull the loads over the level crust. Here 
looking back for a long way behind, we see a straight and 
narrow road made level by our snow-shoes, and leaving the 
tracks of our wide beech runners shining in the moonlight. 
Upon this now well packed road, should we have a rain, and 



19S The Aroostook Woods. 

then freezing, we could pull out over it as large a load as the 
sleds would bear up. 

At last, after a few tumbles and the usual upsets, we came 
in sight of well-known rolling land, anon the brook, and then 
the hunting lodge. We find it snowed in up to the windows, 
but after digging down with a snowshoe we get the shed door 
open, pull in the sleds, unlock and open the camp door, and 
light the lamps and a fire. A basket of birch bark for shav- 
ings, dry cedar and yellow birch wood being at hand soon 
heat up, changing the air and obliging us to swing open the 
door, and slide back the ventilator in the roof. 

In camp again ; how cosy it is, everything in its place, as 
handy as when we left in the fall ; even the wild goose wing 
and dust pan, hang together as of yore. Hi ! there is a 
mouse ; this night he is choked to death between wood and 
wire, enticed by a piece of fresh doughnut. 

Sleds unloaded, packages put in place, then supper of 
sausages, with fresh home made bread, Aroostook doughnuts 
and a cup of tea ; next comes the fragrant smoke and then the 
welcome bunk. 

This time we carry in a nickle clock ; it will be company 
to hear its merry tick, and useful as well. We wind it up 
whilst Joe is out and set the alarm at four o'clock. Joe likes 
to sleep, and sometimes rather late mornings, which we tell 
him is a sad misfortune to become chronic with a sportsman, 
leading to a wonderful low, dull, stagnant state of animation 
and enthusiasm, wasting the most beautiful, bracing, and 
enjoyable part of the pleasant days. Besides this is not good 
for him, as he is too fat already to skip about light and airy 
on his snow-shoes, displaying altogether too much jolly 
protuberant rotundity. 



Fishing Through the Ice. 



199 



We place the clock ticking away lively in an empty cigar 
box, on the shelf over his head, within two feet of his ear. 
Coming in and hearing it there, he wants to know what for 
and why ? and remarks : 

"Do you suppose I want that thing in my ear all night?" 

"Oh, well, Joe, leave it there to please us ; it will sing you 
to sleep, and you said we should keep it warm, and that's the 
south side of camp." 

"All right, I'll get used to it I suppose." 

It was too much fun just for one alone to hear him the next 
morning when the alarm struck up. The clock was a new 
one, and the wide, thin board shelf, with the cigar box, aided 
the circus, and as it rumbled on we began to think it might 
be an eight clay alarm. It ended at last, and we heard a deep 
sigh and a sad groan, as Joe reached for the bootjack. Too 
dark to see, he aimed at random, drawing a long breath, 
mixed with "dang you" and such like, but we dove before 
the flash, and escaped. 

"Ah, yes, I see; warmer on the sunny south side, is it? 
I'll make the shady north side hot for you when I get out of 
this berth ! a regular Fourth of July, my sonny." 

Feeling a little repentant for waking Joe so early, and pity- 
ing him as he had a cold, I jumped up, lit the lamps, built 
a fire and mixed him a good dose of " Standard Liniment " 
hot, which immediately brings out his usual good humor. 

Just at daylight we are all ready for the lake and the fish- 
ing ground. Seeing that our fire is all safe and locking the 
camp, we slide our feet securely in the straps of our snow- 
shoes and are off, levelling down another fine path to run 
over and for future use, to easily carry our outfit, that which 
we need to make a day of it ; our handiest knapsack is again 



200 The Aroostook Woods. 

the two bushel bag. At this time the contents consisted of 
our dinners, dippers, tea pail, fry pan, rubbers, extra woolen 
stockings, in case of wet feet, small packages, etc. Wrap- 
ping them in paper and packing properly, the sack (but half 
full) is gathered together at the mouth and thrown over the 
right shoulder. A cord is made fast to one bottom corner 
(which bottom corner hangs at the left side) then passed 
under the left arm, up across your breast and made fast to 
the gathered together mouth of the sack, with one round turn 
and one-half hitch. Should you wish to be relieved of iti 
quickly, the end of the cord is dangling, give it one twitch 
and instantly you are free from it. Quite a load can be easily 
carried in this manner, requiring but little attention, leaving 
your hands and arms free for other use. 

An elegant day it proves, and we enjoy the walk in the 
early morning through the wildwood, over the well-known 
path. The birds singing as cheerily as if 'twere nesting 
time, and the squirrels barking us a welcome, remembering 
us as friends from our having passed through their play- 
ground often before. Upon the way we step to one side, and 
from a hollow stub take our ice chisel, which has had a 
year's rest, and in a moment we are at the lake. 

Ho ! the bonny lake ; so pretty in the early, sunny morning, 
surrounded by the gently rising hills of hard woods, all dressed 
in their winter garb of brown and gray, with the tall 
spruce scattered through, standing straight and prim above, 
spotted here and there with patches of small evergreens, 
beside wdiich, and away to the top, is seen the white shining 
crust, showing plainly beneath the open growth and between 
the leafless branches of the hard wood trees, while below, 
around the shores, all is warm and melting in the sunshine 



Fishing Through the Ice. 2or 

beneath the fringe of evergreens with their heads just barely 
nodding to the gentle southerly breeze. 

Changing our moccasins for the rubbers, we are soon at 
the cove handy by, and cut a half dozen holes. At first we 
cut through five or six inches of snow ice ; this is from the 
snow and rains and an overflow from the ice settling, and the 
lake water mixing with the snows and freezing upon the 
surface. Here we find a thin streak of water between the 
two ices, after which a foot and a half of beautiful clear blue 
ice. Just before cutting through this, the sun shining down 
in, shows us many colors of the rainbow at the thin ice yet 
left in the bottom of the hole. Stopping to admire these 
beautiful colors for a moment, we give three or four very 
quick punches with the chisel and the confined water rushes 
quickly to the top and often well over the upper surface. 
Our chisel, in form like the carpenter's slice, yet wider, 
thicker and much heavier, ground only upon one side, bevel- 
ling, with a five foot long, hard wood handle ; it cuts fast 
and clean, and we soon have the lines placed, baited with 
fresh beef at the start, until we catch the little red fin roach 
which is preferable. A sprout or branch the size of a finger 
three or four feet long, is fixed firmly in the ice beside the 
hole, and low doiu?z upon this is tied the line ; lowering the 
baited hook to the bottom, then raising it one foot, it is hung 
by a loop just upon a bud ; the remaining slack is coiled and 
hung upon the bush. A trout taking the bait when we are: 
not watching, the line falls from the bud in the water, giving 
him the slack to run away with, and swallowing the bait and 
hook and swimming on away, it brings up at the fastening 
below (a dead fast) and hooks the fish. And now we put to> 
work our little fishermen. Fastening a small piece of birch 



203 The Aroostook Woods. 

hark or paper (the size governed by the wind) about mid- 
way between the loop hanging on the hud and the water, and 
with this the wind keeps the line moving up and down, doing 
the bobbing. 

"Hi! is that a bite?" 

"Nay, nay, it's only the wind." 

"Like to bet you." 

"Ah ha ! it's a good bite ; he has the blower in the water 
(the slack has caught on somehow,) see him thrash the bush 
down in the water. Go it Joe ! " 

He is pulled out hand over hand and allowed no slack to 
turn with, until he lies flipping upon the ice. How clean 
and silvery bright he looks, rolling over and over, and trying 
many times to stand upon his head. lie is immediately cared 
for, placed in the snow of fine ice, from the choppings, away 
from the sun and air. AVe keep strictly to business now, as 
the lines are often being twitched down. There seems to be 
a fine school below us ; it is about their feeding time, too ; 
besides, "when the wind is in the south, it blows the bait in 
the fish's mouth." 

Near the middle of the day, the trout do not bite readily, 
and often keep away, until late in the afternoon. This time 
is improved in catching the pretty little silver red fin for bait, 
using a tiny hook and very small bait. He is often nibbling 
at this time, but hidden in the grass, when the trout are on 
the rampage. 

Aware that quick changes often come with little warning, 
Ave take a half hour while it is so pleasant, to build our barri- 
cade. A few forked stakes are let into the ice, braced and 
withed, a dozen small poles for rafters and a small shelter tent 
over these, completes the wind break ; and now, should old 



i— i 

HH 
25 

o 

H 

o 
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s 

H 

s 

M 
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204 The Aroostook Woods. 

"boreas" find his way back while we are at the lake, he will 
find we defy him, with our backs turned upon him and our 
iaces turned to the sunny south. 

Just in front of the barricade upon some small, green butts, 
laid closely, side by side, to keep the fire above the ice, we 
boll the kettle, and have our dinner, sitting upon a pile of fir 
boughs, over a pine bark flooring, enjoying an elegant sun 
bath as we watch the lines and bobs whilst eating. In the 
afternoon we darken the holes with the ice choppings, as the 
bright sun over them makes the trout wary of approaching, 
and hooking on our small red fins, alive (a choice bait,) 
succeed in taking a nice school of larger trout ; afterward 
many smaller trout and fat silver roach were caught ; all of 
fair size are packed immediately, while those less than seven 
or eight inches are shown the water, when they quickly scoot 
to the bottom. 

Trouting through the ice is now not so much practiced, 
but in those days, long rows of set lines for togue and trout 
were often seen upon the frozen lakes. The fisherman when 
leaving his lines at night, would run the small hook through 
his live bait beneath the back fin, being careful not to injure 
the back bone, when the bait swims quickly to the bottom. 
Raising the fish up a little way, the loop is hung upon a twig 
of a bush, the slack line is coiled and also laid upon it, when 
the bush and slack line is pushed part way down through the 
ice, or below freezing. Just at night or early in the morning 
is considered the best time to catch a large fish, and coming 
along, he seizes the small chub, and after a bite or two, 
swallows hook and fish, always invariably, head first, moving 
away with the slack line and bush, and either the line frozen 
in at the surface or where tied outside is a dead fast, which 



Fishing Through the Ice. 20^ 

hooks him and he is fastened, usually to stay, when after 
vainly righting for awhile, he sulks and then remains quiet. 
Most of the winter fishing is not really very desirable, one 
finding a cold, paralysing time, when the wind is unfavorable 
and it is usually unsatisfactory as to results. We never knew 
of but one party ever doing a real fine " Georgia, Alabama " 
lci7td office business at winter fishing through the ice. This 
was on Penobscot waters, as we heard the story ; a party of 
two cut a hole below a dam, in a pool, where the trout were 
locked in. As their chisel punched through, the confined 
water burst out, the trout following and coming with it in a 
steady drove. The water subsided, yet the fish kept pop- 
ping out ; some lively kicking was done to save them from 
going back, but at last the men were satisfied with a two 
bushel sack full of trout. 

During the last days of March, the rains, with the ever 
increasing warmth of the sun, having much reduced the deep 
snow, and another crust forming during a cold night ; we 
take this time to look over a line of mink and sable traps, 
down through the long, swampy lowlands. The line run- 
ning through the swamp and by the foot of the ridges, often 
neared and ran beside a small spring brook which was now 
all open from the sun and warm rain, until another winter 
should pile dowm its deep snows upon it. It was always of 
much interest to us, from being in many places alive with the 
very smallest trout. The cool spring brook in the summer 
and the warm spring brook in winter, and its waters pure 
and sweet at any time are nearly always of the same temper- 
ature. We came upon it at first, at its head, and the springs 
that feed it; two tiny streams are making their way down, 
soon joining in one, growing a little wider and deeper, for a 



2o6 The Aroostook Woods. 

short way, then a uniform size far as one could see, showing- 
itself at this time in a dark line between its snowy banks 
deeply shaded by the dense swamp. And at our feet, and all 
along in many of its turns and windings far below, are small 
pools of quiet water, and gravelly, spawning beds, where can 
be seen the baby trout, the largest at the head of the brook 
no longer than a little finger. 

Each year far up the brooks from the large waters, here can 
be seen these sprightly little fellows in many places, in large 
numbers ; and in the early spring, by looking closely, there 
may be seen the partly developed baby trout, with its little 
sack hanging to it beneath, and this little embryo is from the 
egg left on the spawning ground late in the fall before. 
Winter or summer they are here, and as many growing large 
enough, they run down to greater waters, and are replaced 
by the spawning in the fall. As we bend over them, they are 
frightened at our dark shadows and dart away up and down 
the small stream, and beneath the fine woody sediment, to 
hide in their late winter quarters. 

And so it is all through the forest, everywhere in this large 
county, and it would be modest indeed to remark that our 
spring brooks are numerous. Nearly every small stream, 
some quite diminutive, when fed by the never failing springs, 
are the home of the baby trout. They never freeze to any 
depth, even in exposed situations in the forest, nor do the 
lowland brooks they feed, save just sufficient to hold up the 
snows in winter, wdiich protect the small trout until balmy 
spring opens out and brightens up their small territory. Here 
they are safe from the old, hooked-nosed trout, yet have their 
enimies even here. 

The otter getting far back, seeking some secluded spot 



Fishing Through the Ice. 207 

away from the males to rear her young, follows up the brook, 
and in some hollow log or more often at the knoll beneath the 
pine stub, close to the brook and among the larger roots, 
goes down, and then up and under, and there makes her nest. 
Here close beside the brook, her little ones can pray out in the 
rain or sunshine, and as soon as old enough, are taught the 
art they are to follow, by practising upon the small trout. 
The mink also seeks the same places for the like purpose, 
and for the same delicacy for its little ones, as well as the 
otter to hide them from the males, who would destroy them 
if possible. 

As the little trout grows a bit bigger, they move down 
along, settling in a new home for awhile, but are soon seek- 
ing a little wider, deeper water, again growing tired 
of their small jdooI and having the growing appetite ; down 
they go to lower, deeper holes in the small brook, when at 
the last, feeling big, bold and brave, gay and frisky (being 
about the size for the small boy's fun) and when a little roiled 
up and excited with the late freshet, they follow on behind 
after the late spawning trout, eventually shooting out into the 
larger waters among their older brothers. 



THE BEAVER. 



VERY much has been written about the beaver and all of 
our forest animals by the scientists, giving their history 
complete, so all that is left us (fortunately, perhaps) is some 
minor points. These also interesting to us, they must neces- 
sarily skip and leave to the trapper, as "Old Boreas" would 
surely coagulate the very marrow in their bones, should they 
invade his playgrounds and bleak territory, sitting around upon 
the breezy ridges or humped up upon a hillock on the barren 
in all kinds of weather, watching the manouvering of the 
animals. To be quickly convinced of the beaver's apparent 
superiority over many of the forest animals, one should ex- 
amine his works, and watch an industrious family building a 
large dam, flowing many acres of low land, changing it to a 
lake, and see their cuttings, from the smallest shoots or 
sprouts, to trees fourteen inches in diameter. His idea of 
building the dam, causing the water to flow far back, giving 
him a swimming chance (up and down what was before but 
a shallow run) to his new wood lot that he has discovered, 
making for himself a new lake or pond of his own over this 
small brook running through the lowland, and giving suffi- 



The Beaver. 209 



cient depth of water to swim to many new feeding chances 
around the shores, even in winter beneath the ice, and deep 
water in front of his house to store his winter's wood for food ; 
this seems to come very close to reasoning. 

A cute fellow is the beaver ; and just here not to be too par- 
tial to one and unjust to others, while we would give him all 
credit, acknowledge him an industrious worker, an ingenious 
architect and a wide awake fellow when abroad, knowing 
just when to dive beneath the surface, rather too quickly too, 
as he sees or hears the canoe coming around the bend, yet we 
have many others deserving of much notice, and he should 
not have the credit of being the only bright one dwelling 
away back in the wildwood. Among the many of us, it may 
not be the greater part, that realize how very near many of 
our forest dwellers approach to intelligence and under- 
standing. 

The beavers home is built close to the edge of the stream 
where there is a good depth of water, the house being large 
or small, according to the size of the family ; the usual size 
seen, for a small family, is some four or five feet in diameter 
at the base ; four feet high, nearly oval in shape, sloping 
downward to turn off the rain. Many sticks and bushes that 
grow handy they use in its construction, gathering and bring- 
ing for the house all the shoots and cane like sticks from 
which they have formerly eaten the bark and left beside the 
stream, with large flakes of fibrous roots, sods and mud 
which they dig handy by. The many sticks working admira- 
bly as binders, keeping all in place, and at the last covered 
with the muddy sods placed grass side down, which it is 
stated that on a rainy day, using their broad, flat tails as 
trowels, they smooth up to a nicety. Often in the fall along 



2io The Aroostook Woods. 



the stream in the vicinity of, and upon the top of the house 
now being repaired perhaps, and showing fresh black mud, 
may be seen the cane like sticks of new wood from which 
they have eaten the bark, now showing at a long distance, 
brightly in the sunshine. This gives them entirely away, for 
although they are careful to be in hiding themselves at the 
least unusual sound, these bright, newly peeled sticks notify 
the trapper of their return from their summer cruisings, to fix 
up their habitations for w T inter. 

Their rooms, or nests, nicely lined with grass, are well 
above the water from below, and yet beyond danger of freez- 
ing from the outside. Close to the nest, below, is their 
passage down to the water, which is never allowed to freeze 
but little, even if likely to, which it is not. The many sticks 
being crossed in every manner, support the heavy mass above 
(their roof) from falling in upon them. Their home is well 
built to keep out the cold, and the warmth of their fat bodies 
while in the nest keep up the temperature. Then with the 
colder weather comes the snow, covering all during the winter, 
with the wind drifting an extra share upon their house, so 
that at times you can scarcely tell where their dwellings are. 
And here, when snoozing in their cosy home in the centre of 
of their house below the cold, they have what they want, a 
warm, dry nest while they are sleeping, and a dry chance 
above all wet from below. Snug quarters for such hardy 
fellows after all. And upon the outside while boreas holds 
high carnival, they are each curled up like a huge football, 
their broad, flat tails flipped around to one side of them between 
their bodies and the open passage to the water, partly, at 
least, protecting one side of them from the (not very cold) air 
from the water below. This knowledge of them was gained 



The Beaver. 211 



from cutting into a house in the spring and finding a very aged 
beaver frozen stiff in this position in his nest. 

As they increase in numbers and grow up, a pair or more 
will start out from the old home to housekeep for themselves, 
making the journey usually up the main stream, often finding 
a smaller branch coming into the main, which after examining 
they settle near its head, if finding chances for good flowage 
and plenty of young wood. The old ones assist the young 
pairs to build their new dam, which when completed the old 
ones return to the old home. Often a family become dis- 
gusted with the cruel ways of the trapper, and fearful of yet 
more murderous intentions on his part, they all desert their 
home together and find a sly chance which is known only to 
themselves, for a long time, and then, when the trapper hap- 
pens to trace them out, he may see such a village of beaver 
houses as makes his eye fairly twinkle over the prospect of 
rich furs, the excitement and the dollars. Then again, when 
being driven from, or voluntarily leaving their home, they 
will settle upon the same stream, often but a short distance 
above, sometimes finding all favorable for them without build- 
ing a dam, only their house, which they must have on the 
boggy lands, only living in the banks of the streams where 
they are high, dry and loomy. 

Should the trapper wish to catch but one beaver, he can do 
so by setting the trap in the nest inside the house ; but he only 
gets the one in this manner, as the others will not stay to take 
such a chance after seeing one of their number caught. To 
do this, he sets his trap the same as for the musquash, and by 
cutting through the house immediately over the nest, the exact 
spot known by the white frost showing upon the outside com- 
ing from the beaver's warmth of body and his breathing. 



212 The Aroostook Woods. 

Setting the trap in the beavers bed and covering it nicely with 
the grass from the nest, the end of the chain fastened upon the 
outside, and the opening he has made neatly closed, tight as 
before. But should he take the time he may catch nearly 
every one by setting the traps at the points, or beside the 
stream, some little distance from the house. Finding such a 
place both above and below the house, usually is correct. If 
the stream is not as yet frozen the traps can be set near the 
shore, as for the musquash, but in a little deeper water. A 
dry pole should be attached to the chain, placed and fastened 
so as to allow him to plunge quickly to deep water and drown. 
Too light a trap is not as desirable, but having none suffi- 
ciently heavy to hold him down beneath the water, a stone 
can be added to the chain. Here the medicine (so called) 
comes handy for the beaver, as for musquash. This is the 
beaver castor found upon the matured males as upon the mus- 
quash, used upon a dry stick in the same manner. Not hav- 
ing the castor at the first of trapping, bait with poplar wood, 
pushed down beside the trap. 

After the ice forms, to catch them beneath it is the best 
and most satisfactory way, if the hunter will take the time to 
do so. They are not wholly dependent upon the wood sunk 
in the stream in front of their dwellings for their winter food, 
but are travelling or swimming up and down beneath the ice 
to different feeding grounds all through the winter. Many 
trappers say the wood provided for winter is a reserve, and 
only brought up to the well-packed floor of the house and 
eaten in the extreme case ; so the traps set a little away 
from their house upon the points, and baited with newly cut 
wood, is seen as they go up and down. 

In water deep enough to drown them quickly, cut a place 



The Beaver. 213 



through the ice large enough to work handy, and drive the 
four dry stakes for the platform upon which to rest the trap 
when set, about twelve or fifteen inches below the ice. The 
stakes may be made ready before driving, by wiring together, 
forming the square, then cross wired, forming the resting 
place for the trap. Upon this wiring, weave in a few small 
evergreens enough to form quite a nest, leaving small ends to 
float erect in the water, partly hiding the trap and serving to 
steady it in place, in case the edge of the trap is stepped 
upon before the pan. Baited with a young green tree ; 
poplar is the favorite with them, and many branches maybe left 
on, the top pushed in the mud at the bank and the butt imme- 
diately over the trap and fastened to the stakes. The beaver 
anxious to carry off the tree to his house, will be caught 
while resting upon the trap and platform, in the act of cut- 
ting off the butt. A dry pole to hold the trap always, the 
ring to slip easily from top to bottom, when there is a stub of 
a branch always left on, to prevent the ring from slipping off, 
and the beaver soon drowns upon the bottom of the stream. 
One or two out of a family may be caught by setting the traps 
upon their dam (which is so near level that the water flows 
evenly over it,) by cutting out places two or three inches 
deep and setting traps in them, but seeing one of their num- 
ber struggling in irons is sufficient to drive them all away to 
seek new quarters. To catch them a little away from their 
works, singly and alone, and drowning them quickly is the 
better way. If traps are new and bright, they should be 
smoked over evergreen boughs. If set upon a muddy bottom, 
the mud stirred up will settle over them hiding their 
brightness. 

We have been told of a trapper, who as he was travelling 



214 



The Aroostook Woods. 



around the edge of a meadow or barren, and as he was 
passing through a piece of young and mixed second growth 
growing beside the meadow, came upon the works of beaver, 
showing fresh cuttings, then after tracing a short way he 
found very recent signs of them. A poplar tree had been cut 
down which was some three or four inches in diameter, and 
a piece taken from it, and apparently but just dragged away ; 
following the trail a piece, he soon found their road running 
around and beneath the downfalls, between the old bleached 
stumps and their bare roots, beside the clumps of bushes, all 
with the view to the easiest road toward the stream and to be 
as much hidden as possible on the way ; then nearly straight 
across the open meadow to the water. Knowing the beaver 
though a swifter in his element, the water, when on the land 
as a racer, not a success, he determined to lie in wait and kill 
one if possible, though having nothing but his axe for a 
weapon. Finding a good hiding place on the meadow, he 
waited long for his return for another log, feeling confident 
of success, as he watched through the low growing bushes. 
After waiting until near night in a drizzly rain, he raised 
up, about to continue on his way, giving up the watching, 
when he discovered the beaver coming toward him, but not 
from the water as he was expecting and had been watching, 
as the beaver had taken some other route to his wood lot and 
was now coming toward the water and directly to the trapper. 
The beaver was slowly toiling around a rise in the meadow 
that was covered with bushes, one paw and forearm over the 
log, with a firm hold by his teeth of the end, thus lifting and 
drawing it along. As the knowing beaver approached to 
within a few feet of the man's hiding place, the air, though 
thick with fog and mist, gave upon it a strange taint, and 



The Beaver. 21 



caused the beaver to drop his log and look wonderingly 
toward the clump of bushes. As the trapper suddenly half 
raised himself and sprang toward him, w r ith the axe uplifted 
to drive it through his scull or hurl it w r ith unerring aim 
should the beaver attempt to run, the beaver merely bowed 
down his head, remaining motionless. He saw and knew his 
situation at a glance ; cut off from his way to the water and 
no escape. He crawled a step or two toward his would-be 
destroyer, and stopped again with bowed head, like a begging 
spaniel. This w r as rather too much instinct for the trapper, 
who was a human being after all, and proved it wdien he 
dropped his axe upon his shoulder, turned to one side from 
the beaver and hurried on his way. 

Furthermore, this jolly trapper stated, that once upon a 
time, late in the afternoon of the day, as it was on his way, 
he stopped at a beaver's wood lot when expecting them to be 
coming and hid to leeward of their path, and where they 
would likely be working if they came, wishing to watch 
them, and that he did not w r ish to shoot them as they were 
the only pair upon the pond, by which ran his line of traps. 
Seeing a large wdiite birch nearly cut off, he took his position 
where he could watch this, and laid flat upon the ground 
behind a small mound, that he might be the more quiet. Soon 
the pair of beaver came and began their work, each to his 
tree. One he said, was a huge old fellow, though not too 
large to be yet very supple, nor too old to be funny and frisky, 
and this one went at the big wdiite birch partly cut down. 
Before long he caused a trembling among its upper branches 
and just as the tree w r as tottering upon the small piece left 
uncut, he jumped backward and flapped his broad paddle tail 
out behind him with a whirl and a whack upon the ground. 



2 if> The Aijoostook Woods. 

Then sitting upon it, straight up in the air like a squirrel, 
with his eye up the tree watching its top a moment, and as it 
began to tip with the breeze, his forepaws held together in 
front of him like a trick spaniel and moving them up and 
down the while, at the same time using his tail as a spring 
for his whole body, he bobbed up and down like a baby in a 
jumper, and actually laughed aloud as the tree came crashing 
down. 



The Old Monarch. 217 



THE OLD MONARCH. 

UPON the knoll well up the rocky rising lands, 
Beside the sportsman's trapping line the monarch stands ; 
Outlined upon the sky when seen from lake afar, 
And on the brightest days is seen its latest scar. 

A Monarch still, that to boreas yields no place, 
Till time and storm shall more conduce to his disgrace. 
Not many years have passed since on it there did rest 
Upon three stubs of limbs, high up, an eagle's nest. 

And with the king of birds upon the remnant of a bough, 
It did not look so lonely then as it looks now ; 
Tall, bleached and bare, all hoary gray with age, 
It yet defies the storm with boreas in his rage. 

Stripped clean by wind and rain, of every limb bereft; 
No branch or twig, no bud, or tiny leaf, is left 
To cast their shade, or waive and tremble in the breeze, 
Yet still erect the giant stands above all other trees. 

Years long agone it looked as old as now, to-day, 
All weatherworn and smooth upon its bole and gray 
Save one long, scathing streak, all furrowed down its side; 
The lightning came, 'twere not enough that it had died. 

It yet stands firm upon its feet though it is dead ; 
How many, many years with spring and fall have fled 
Since first two tiny leaves peeped out and saw the sun, 
Who of us all can tell? God is the only one. 




THE LOG TRAP OR DEAD-FALL. 



ON THE LINE OF TRAPS. 



MANY not at all acquainted with trapping would no doubt 
be interested to know something of what is meant by 
a line of traps. They are set in line, or are running a certain 
course, which at times may vary as we come to thick tangled 
swamps, stream and lake, though at times directly through a 
swamp, and again alongside it, when as good or better trap- 
ping, as it is the better travelling. Then down along the 
stream a piece to trap the mink, also to place a trap of well 
proven springs for the otter if any chance offers, and for a 
suitable crossing to the other side of the stream to continue 
the line, yet in the main, keeping to the original course to 
reach some distant lake, stream, mountain, or lowland, which 
is to be the terminus. 

We cross the lake usually at the inlet or outlet, by canoe or 
raft. Crossing the stream often at the rips, or if not, just 
above or below by raft, which is two or three dry cedars of 
good size, cut down, rolled in and withed together. Then 
with the aid of a dry spruce pole, always to be found handy, 
we are soon on the opposite shore tying the raft securely to 
the bushes, to be there on our return. 



220 The Aroostook Woods. 

Spotting the line, is taking a small chip out of a tree upon 
each side of it, as high as one can reach handy, so as to be 
well above the deep snows. From this tree you look ahead 
on the course, selecting another in line with this, to take a 
slice from each side, and so on. The same as all spotting 
of lines through the woods tor marking off the townships 
and sections, excepting that the trapper and hunter will 
mark more trees, giving him twice the number of spots so he 
may quickly find his way ; and this prevents his getting off 
the course in stormy times. Even then, when the snow is 
falling in damp flakes and is driven against the trees by the 
wind, the spots are many of them not to be seen. Again 
there are many moonlighted evenings when it is nice to have 
the line plainly marked, for the hunters are often forgetting 
to hurry, with the moon in prospect, being so much interested 
in providing new baits for traps in good locations, and adding 
more weight here and there, that they, and their shadows, are 
often late passing over the line, hurrying on to the home camp 
to enjoy its welcome comforts. 

Early in the fall of the year when the weather is mild, dry 
and pleasant, in the mild September, is the time to build the 
new line or to repair the old one. One might carry quite a 
little outfit beside his light, narrow axe if he would improve 
all the chances that offer and fully enjoy his excursions over 
the line ; and may we make a suggestion (to the uninitiated 
only.) should one start in on the hunting and trapping or the 
tramping and camping, always to carry with him a little salt 
and pepper, so much needed and appreciated when we broil 
a trout or a bird. At the same time we will find it handy to 
carry a half dozen fish hooks and a line or two, for we come 
to a stream many times quite unexpectedly. Then with our 



Ox The Line of Traps. 221 

pocket knife we can play woodpecker upon the dead spruce 
and get a fine, fat wood worm for the small hook, or shoot a 
bird or squirrel, with which we can get a chub, and then with 
this bait often a fine trout, which gives such tone and relish 
to the luncheon, by adding the speckled beauty, broiled. 

So a small wallet containing hooks and lines, salt and pepper, 
a small vial for sure dry matches (as a reserve,) a surgeons 
three cornered needle, twenty or thirty yards of the finest shoe 
thread, a small piece of beeswax and a generous piece of 
surgeons court plaster, all carried in an inner pocket is quite 
correct. Now perhaps, knowing you have this needle and 
plaster, you will not cut yourself. Good ! cheap insurance. 

Usually two are trapping together on the line, which is the 
pleasant way to do. They leave the home camp provided 
much like the following : One rifle for shooting bait, as well 
as for larger game should it come in the way and offer to bite 
them. Each with light hunting axe, weight two and a half 
pounds, heavy poll, thin and long bitted, with strap and case 
to carry hanging from the shoulder ; good serviceable pocket 
knives which should not have -pczvter blades; compass, 
always ; as many steel traps as they can conveniently carry 
at the start out, to be left as they grow too heavy, hanging 
them up as they work along to good chances, some to be 
set where left, others to be moved on at future times. Trappers 
leave them hanging until wanted with but little fear of their 
being stolen, for none but the lowest dregs of the half human 
would be guilty of taking them, as this is considered by all to 
be the meanest kind of thieving. Many steel traps are set 
low at the first of the season and gives the trapper more fur. 
The mink especially are dodging in and out of the low-down 
places, and is not afraid of wetting his feet, so usually the 



222 The Aroostook Woods. 

trap is under water an inch or two the bait sticking up beside 
it with chain enough to allow him to get to deep water and 
drown. 

The best chances for the sable are in and around beside the 
swamps, though they are taken on the ridges, particularly in 
beech nut time, as they, as well as the fisher, will eat the 
beech nuts, though both are carnivorous to a murderous extent. 
The old pine, as well as other dry, decaying stubs, are just 
elegant for the house to set the steel trap in, and here is where 
the narrow bitted axe works to a charm for cutting into it, and 
the rather heavy poll helps to drive it. The spruce stumps 
left by the lumbermen are fine for the dead fall, though many 
of them too low for our deep snows ; those upon the knoll 
are best. The dead fall does not require to be wide at the 
mouth of it, for the sable or mink ; in fact a narrow entrance 
is best. So the fair sized fir trees, cut as high as one can 
chop them handy, gives us a chance to build the dead fall for 
these fellows, good for any time during the winter, and they 
last for years. There is little fear but what the sable or 
fisher will find the baits even if high. Give them a small 
rough spruce piece to climb up by if so wished, though 
usually they get there just the same. A south exposure 
is always best for the entrance of the trap ; nealed wire 
is good for the spring pole or tip-up, and a spool of it comes 
handy frequently, though the greater part of the trapper's 
strings and ropes are the inner bark of the young and straight 
cedar trees and twisted withes ; for tying on the baits, the 
cedar bark is complete. 

The needful luncheon must be put up and carried along, 
and not a scanty one is satisfying when the boys are building 
traps and spotting the line ; for earnest and active, deeply 



Ox The Line of Traps. 223 

interested in the pleasant work, noon comes quickly, yet they 
are always jolly hungry. The dead fall for the sable and mink 
is much the same wherever used ; but for those unacquainted 
with it, that may be interested, we are pleased to describe it. 

The dead fall, or wooden trap, if properly built and set with 
sufficient heft upon the fall piece, will do a good business, 
however much may be said to the contrary. A large log, a 
down pine stub, a square cut off fir or spruce tree, is usually 
selected to build upon. Dry cedar splits are provided a foot 
long, and a half to three-fourths of an inch thick, for the 
house which is shaped like a V. The splits may vary in 
width from two to six inches. These are made w r edge shaped 
at one end that they may be driven in the log or stump upon 
which the house is being made. The hunting axe struck in 
and then withdrawn, opens in the stump a chance for them to 
be driven solid for the house. Immediately in front of the V 
shaped house is laid the bed piece, which is generally of 
spruce a foot long, two and a half inches in diameter, the 
bark left on at the top side, beneath flattened to fit. In front 
of this bed piece of spruce, to keep it solid and to receive the 
long fall piece, are driven two stakes on a line with the splits. 
The fall piece and bed piece are from one tree and fit together 
nicely, the fall being from six to ten feet long, according to 
convenience. The near end of the fall, fitting and resting 
upon the bed piece (or choker;) the outer end may be sup- 
ported by resting in the fork of a small tree ; if not, a forked 
stick is provided and withed to a tree, the top of the tree 
afterward cut off to prevent swaying and springing the trap. 
Upon this fall piece rests the weight of logs (their ends close 
beside the trap) that pin down and kill the animal. Next 
the spindle, or bait stick, upon the end of which is fastened 



22 4 



The Aroostook Woods. 



the bait. This is the length of the house floor, bed piece 
added, and is a green stick the size of your finger flattened a 
trifle upon the two sides. The riser, a small piece from off 
the same stick, not over three and a half inches long, flattened 
a trifle, completes the different pieces. Being now ready to 
set the trap, we lift up the fall piece with the weight of logs 
upon it with our left arm placed under it close beside the trap, 
lay the baited end of the spindle (or bait stick) far back in 
the narrow part of the V shaped house, the outer end resting 
upon the bed piece (or choker). Upon this outer end of the 
bait stick (with the right hand) now place one end of the 
rizer, and holding it straight up, ease down the long fall piece 
and weight of logs carefully upon its upper end and the 
trap is set. Now cover the top of the house with a thick 
bunch of fir boughs laid on bottom side up ; over these apiece 
of bark to keep out the wet, all slanting backwards ; an old 
junk upon the bark to keep it in place, and a stick placed for 
the game to climb up, and it is finished. 

Fisher, Pekan, Black Cat and Peconk. By these names he 
is known and spoken of. The Pekan is not as numerous as 
w r e could wish, though their cry is frequently heard at even- 
ing over the ridges. The spruce knolls and dark spruce 
growth, and along the top of the ridges are the haunts of the 
fisher, and at such places along the line a trap is placed par- 
ticularly for him. If a dead fall, it must be built solid and 
with a gfood weight of logs to hold him, as he soon learns to 
travel along the line, stealing the baits and tearing down the 
sable traps without getting pinched enough to mind it. But 
coming to the trap set purposely for him, with thick splits 
driven solid in the stump, sufficient weight upon the down 
fall, a beautiful bait to his fancy, he at last reaches in, giving 



Ox The Link of Traps. 227 

it a yank that is about sure to spring it, even when you think 
it overloaded, when he finds rest, quiet, peace. But for the 
old, wary general, that has robbed the traps and eluded us a 
few times, we must give him the steel trap and the tip up. 
And in this case the steel trap need not be too large ; a good 
single spring trap that opens out large enough for his foot is 
correct. For the tip up, first a suitable crotch or forked stake 
is cut, sharpened and pushed down beside and withed to a 
tree (always provided the suitable tree with a fork is not 
growing just right for the house and trap). A long pole is 
cut and placed on this fork, the small end for the trap to be 
fastened to. The larger end should be of good heft, as it is 
the tip down of quite a little weight. (As it now rests, it 
reminds you of the old well sweep without the old oaken 
bucket). The trap is wired to the end of the pole by the ring 
of the chain. For holding the pole down, in front of the 
house, and trap, a stake long enough to stay there, and well 
hacked upon all sides to help keep it down, is driven just 
right for the length of chain, and just right to be up even w r ith 
the house floor. This stake is cut square across it and well 
in, and a deep slice taken out from below the cut, when a 
corresponding piece for a hook is notched, and sliced out the 
same and to fit that in this stake, and the hook fastened to the 
end of the pole beside the trap ring. This hooks down the 
pole, and if the notches are square cut and not beveling, it is 
all right to stand the wind until the fisher is caught, when at 
his first jump, up it goes. A fisher seldom breaks away 
as he has no chance to employ his muscle, except to dance 
in the air. An old dry stub upon a knoll chopped into, 
is good for a house for the trap, choosing the south exposure. 
It is best to drive in a couple of wedge shaped stakes just over 
the entrance, for a bark roof to keep out the storm. 



226 The Aroostook Woods. 

The fisher in winter is frequently killing the porcupine for 
food. By some means, some dodge best known to himself, 
he gets him upon his back to avoid his sharp armor, and 
bites him underneath and at his throat where there are no 
quills, killing him very quickly, yet not without getting many 
a quill imbedded in his cheek, as is often seen after being 
captured. So this, in winter, is a good bait and easily 
procured, as they can be tracked to the old pine logs when 
out on sunny days, leaving a wide path in the snow behind 
them. The fisher takes most kindly to the wing or leg of a 
partridge, rabbit or frozen chub, and if hungry, may be 
caught with his every day food, the squirrel. Deer meat he 
is quite fond of as well. Having killed and dressed a deer 
at some place, the refuse, if left upon a knoll raised up from 
the ground, that he may get underneath it, will prove almost 
a sure chance to get one, if he passes within a half mile to 
leeward of it. Then if any is left in the spring after the 
snow goes off, when Bruin is again ranging the hills, he may 
call once or twice to nose it over, when he, too, may be 
caught. 

A little after sundown, the fisher wakes up from his long 
day's sleep, and from his den in some hollow log, or often 
from a large, leaning, hollow cedar tree or the hollow branch 
of some old monarch of the forest, pokes his nose out to note 
the time and the weather. And after a look around below, 
steps out of his house and reaching as far up the branch as his 
short forearms will allow, and settling his sharp claws in the 
wood, has a fine scratch and a stretch out before coming 
down to the ground. Then backing down to near the ground 
he turns and springs to the old log twelve or fifteen feet away 
landing as light as a bird and leaps away to the first hillock, 



Ox The Line of Traps. 227 

stops and gives us his peculiar cry, which, from the sound of, 
the Indian says, he is called the peconk ; then quickly away 
v again, he is soon upon the height of land, when his cry oftens 
comes louder than before, like Pc—c—o—n—k ! and after a short 
time he calls just once again ; then far back of the ridge it 
may come to us faintly, when probably meeting his mate he 
has been calling to, his cry is heard no more for the night. 

They now start off together on the war-path to make their 
nightly raid upon some of the many unwary innocents that 
may be off their guard, or quietly sleeping in the moonlight, 
but more particularly this evening perhaps, to kill and eat 
Mrs. Bunny and her little daughter, or what is yet more 
likely, to jump and seize some young and giddy partridge of 
the feminine type, which never would obey its mother and 
often roosted too low, alas, and even to-night in spite of her 
late warning. 

Oh! birdie, roost high in the evergreen, 

Little fear in the bright sunny day; 
Yet at night you'll surely be seen, 

Should the fisher creep softly this way. 

One of the reasons of the fisher not becoming more plenti- 
ful is owing to the old males, who are not fatherly to the 
young when they are quite small, but kill them, everyone, if 
finding them when the mother is away hunting for their food. 
It is rarely they are seen in the day time, as they are mostly 
night ramblers ; though occasionally, like the sable, they have 
been discovered lying close down upon the limb of a thick 
spruce without making a movement until shot. And now 
and then, one returning to his den in the morning, later than 
usual from his night excursion, has been suddenly interviewed 



22S The Aroostook Woods. 

by a dog which knew what was wanted of him (having been 
educated in the woods) and quickly jumped up a tree, where 
he was easily cared for. 

Many places along the line of traps, are growing young, 
thrifty, yellow birch bushes and clusters of sprouts, of which 
the rabbits are very fond. Some of these are cut down a few 
at a time, when passing over the line, for the rabbits, which 
though plenty in the swamps, do not always show themselves 
often enough to suit the trapper, unless they are invited. 
The buds growing high in the sun upon the bushes, they 
much prefer, and getting the scent of the strong, pleasant 
odor of the fresh cut birch, they find it readily. A few 
copper wire snares placed here, provides both bait and food 
along" the line at such chances. Then should the fisher or 
sable rob the snare, he leaves a writing upon the snow to that 
effect, which is noted by the trapper and his case comes on 
immediately, as he is more than likely to call again. 

Coming to where we had a steel trap set for a sable one 
cold, frosty morning after a light snow storm, we found the 
trap was gone, and another description of quite a little circus 
portrayed upon the snow over the crust. The first part of 
the performance was all over for the time, the actor having 
retired behind the scenes. The trap was set upon the west 
side of an old road that ran north and south over a dark 
spruce rise. The track of a large fisher showed he had been 
leaping along from the west to cross the road about four 
rods to the south of the trap. Reaching our line, which here 
ran in this old road, he had stopped before crossing and 
turned his nose to the north wind which had tickled his 
snuffers with the odor from a mixture so highly pleasant to 
him, he must needs investigate. With a few jumps and then 



Ox The Line of Traps. 229 

slow walking steps, he approached the trap, walking around 
the house in which it was set, and reaching in, seized hold of 
the bait, in doing which he put his forefoot upon the pan of 
the sable trap and was caught by two toes only. As the trap 
sprung, he made a wild and high jump upward, falling and 
rolling over as he struck the snow, breaking the chair, which 
was a light one and full of frost, leaving the ring and one 
link as hitched to a light sapling. Then he tried jumping 
with the trap, heading eastward across the road, when find- 
ing the jaws of the trap pinching his toes, he slowed down 
for a fight with it. Here he gave a lively leaping and 
tumbling performance, whirling around and biting the jaws 
of the trap, leaving the marks of his teeth in the iron as he 
crushed it down in the snow. Again he started to jump away 
for a distant swamp to the eastward, when finding he fell 
sprawling so often, he now tried walking carefully. In this 
he did nicely, dragging along the trap beside him, soon turn- 
ing in a broad circle and heading for his track where he 
first came upon the trail. Here passing through the small 
growth he became hung up with the trap, when after backing 
around to all points of the compass, he, with his own forefoot 
dug down in the crust a chance to almost conceal himself ; 
and here we soon found him with just his nose, the impris- 
ioned foot and the trap in sight. As we drew near, his eyes 
gave us a strong hint of what he would like to do to us, yet 
he never made a sound. He was a beautiful specimen of the 
Pekan, so large and well furred out, with a tail to be proud 
of, considerable gray around his head, and his cheeks well 
filled with the ends of the porcupine quills. A small beech 
was cut off with the proper fork left at its end, and while 
doing this his eye was constantly following us, as he would 



230 The Aroostook Woods. 

push out his nose a bit, and again draw himself far down. 
The beech fork was placed firmly over his neck, as we wished 
to take him alive, but he would slip from under it very 
quickly. Again this was tried, and several times, before he 
could be held as quiet as we wished, to be muzzled and to 
snap the collar with the chain upon him, far back of his fore 
shoulders. At last we concluded we had him ; and he was yet 
so stuffy he woidd scarcely spit at us, and it was lucky for us, 
though not for him, that we took the precaution to have the 
shot-gun ever in readiness during the time, for just as we were 
in the act of snapping the collar together, he with a quick roll 
over, released his toes, slipped from under the beech fork at 
the same instant, and was making lively leaps for a thicket, 
when the captain telegraphed him to stop over for our train. 

Over the trail on the line during the first snows, each one 
is particular to follow exactly in the Indian path, tramping 
down a good road, not knowing how long they must use 
moccasins before good snow-shoeing. Thus a road is 
marked out which is on the improvement, being travelled over 
after each storm. Often it is quite level and smooth, even 
from the moccasin tracks ; and when the snow everywhere 
outside of it is covered with a noisy crust (if travelled on) the 
path is hard packed and can be walked upon in the moccasins 
without noise, which is a point, if creeping for a shot. The 
path is usually pretty clear from annoyance, in the way of 
sprouts and windfalls, as they are kept cut out in bad chances 
to pass along. This path is handy for, and often followed by 
the caribou. Coming upon it, they most always step into it 
for the good walking, and if it is running their way, will keep 
to it for quite a distance. 

To get a shot at one betimes, and at times, is a point with 



On The Line of Traps. 231 



the hunter, which he must make. So coming to a nice sly- 
around chance where the caribou are so free with this private 
narrow way, they cut for them three or four fir or spruce trees 
well decked out with the gray moss that is ever waving like 
pennants in the breeze, leaving them resting one upon the 
another like a natural windfall. Sooner or later the caribou 
are going to tarry here for awhile, to be out of the wind, for 
a sunny spot to lie down and ruminant, or for a fine feeding 
chance to stand around and eat of the abundant moss. 

At the first of the winter on these first snows, from a half 
inch at the first, until near a foot, the boys mostly use mocca- 
sins, as they can clip it about so light and easily, back and 
forth over the line; and for the best ones (still hunting as 
well) they prefer the moose shanks, tanned, with the hair left 
on, and the hair worn upon the outside. These do not wet 
through easily like the buckskin ; always using an innersole 
for their moccasins of any kind, except when snow-shoeing. 
The best innersole they find to be one side felt, the bottom 
side rubber. They are correct, and even a home-made pair 
are not to be despised ; the thicker part from the rim of a felt 
hat for the upper, and from the leg of our cast-off rubber 
boots, the under side. 

These they lay aside when the snow-shoes are used, and 
pull on their soft tanned moose hide moccasins, with as many 
pairs of new woolen socks as possible, on the cold days. And 
now they are having enjoyable times on the snow-shoes, 
strictly attending to the trapping ; tramping early and late, 
working for the pleasure of it as much as for the profit. Well, 
strong and hearty they are now, and have become so inured to 
the cold that they would not notice it if it were not for the 
darkness of some days. Those black, cold days, without the 



232 The Aroostook Woods. 

sun, they hardly wish for, yet it takes a pretty cold one to 
cause them to hump up and scud away for camp. Every new- 
storm sees them right off the next morning' after, on their 
snow-shoes with rifle, axe and knapsack of eatables, on and 
away over the line in the same old road. Tramping down the 
new snow, the one behind breaking" joints as they term it, 
which means stepping just where the head one did not step, 
leaving the road beautifully smooth again, and as easy travelling 
for them as on a house floor. Why? Well, the land varies 
just enough, often rolling, with occasionally a rise, and then 
the down hill grade is gay ; it is not monotonous at all, and 
from a well made snow-shoe (from the hide of a caribou) 
after one gets agoing, the spring of them lifts him so lively on. 

Some of the fattest and best dressed old bears are every win- 
ter, and even in the fall of the year, wearing overcoats so large, 
line and shiny, that we often envy them their possession ; and 
these big fellows are many of them wary and grow cunning 
from having been pinched by too light a dead fall, or from 
being at some time caught in an old and worthless steel trap. 
From such a trap they soon slip out from, or smash it against 
a tree, smiling the while to think how little their strength is 
known, and ever after taking care to avoid all trappish looking 
places. A thorough trapper and renowned bear hunter once 
gave us a recipe to cure such old, keen scented and wide-awake 
fellows of this complaint. lie says : " Cunning as old Gen- 
tleman Bruin is, he mostly follows the same path. Finding 
this, and at a place where the bushes grow pretty close to it, 
place the trap in his path. A little from the trap, before and 
beyond (as you cannot tell from which direction he may ap- 
proach) push down some fir or spruce boughs, their tops tip- 
ping over the path just right to brush his eyes, as he trots 
through them by moonlight." 



Ox The Line of Traps. 233 

And this sets him blinking, when he madly growls '-Rats!" 
Diverting all his thinking from the hunter or his traps. 

And the next moment he steps in the trap, and is circum- 
vented. 

Bruin is most exceedingly fond of beech nuts and when he 
can find them over the ridges, he can scarcely be induced to 
take a bait, for he will be cruising about the hills, nosing over 
the leaves until the deep snow drives him to his den. At the 
rips is a good chance often to trap him, as well as at old 
camps and older camp grounds, very secluded old wood roads 
beside the big swamps, and as he sneaks through the rocky 
ravine. And at the rips is when his tracks may be looked 
for, often not in vain. Although he swims the dead waters 
as easily as a deer, yet he dislikes to wet his fur, if a little 
cool in the fall or spring, so often his regular crossing is at 
these shoal places. Here finding his tracks, the toes pointing 
for or from the rips, induces us to make a try for him, expect- 
ing him to cross again. The steel trap set for him does not 
require a lot of logs heaped up, but simply a few evergreens 
pushed down beside a good sized tree each side of the trap, 
the bait fastened upon the tree, well beyond, not too low 
down, and a log laid crosswise for him to step over imme- 
diately into the trap. 

A young friend kindly furnishes us with an account of his 
first bear trapping. Said he, " It was in the spring of ninety- 
one, that I made my first attempt at trapping the bear. The 
snow went off early in April and I immediately set to work 
building the traps or deadfalls. I set up twelve, placing 
them about a half mile apart, making the distance to the last 
one six miles. It took the better part of the day to attend to 



234 The Aroostook Woods. 

them ; that is to keep them well baited and in good working 
order. For nearly three weeks I was almost daily on the beat, 
for the walk, enjoying the tramping through the fragrant pine 
woods, but as yet without success, as to my first bear. I 
often found the traps sprung, probably by the porcupine 
getting inside, thus escaping the fall of the trap as it sprung." 

" I was getting a little discouraged as I was very anxious 
to catch a bear, when one morning as I arose and found a 
heavy rain had set in, is it any wonder that I hesitated that 
morning about facing the storm ? But my great desire to get 
a bear overcame me, and I pulled on my rubber boots and 
struck out over the line. The first traps handy by had not 
been disturbed, but others along the line were sprung and 
some torn down, showing something larger than porcupine 
was abroad this time. This began to look favorable, and 
growing excited, and being ever anxious to see the next trap, 
and again the next, I hastened on without waiting to repair 
any damages, feeling a presentiment as I measured off the 
long yards of wet leaves and mold, that this was to be my 
lucky day." 

" I must admit that I made good time, and soon passing 
another trap, demolished like many others behind, I remem- 
bered there was but one more chance for me. Only one more 
trap ! Being well warmed up to the business in hand, it took 
but a few moments to walk to the vicinity of the last trap, and 
quickly my eyes were peering' through the dripping branches 
toward it, eager for a glimpse of the entrance ; finally coming 
in sight, my last hope vanished upon seeing it was torn down 
like many others. I was rather reproaching myself for 
taking such a day for the tramping, as I slowly walked up 
towards the trap, when a dark object and a movement beneath 



On The Line of Traps. 235 

the fallen logs attracted my gaze, and in two leaps I was 
beside the trap in front of the entrance, and standing there, 
as if in a dream. I had no words to express my amaze- 
ment at the sight I beheld. I had hoped to find a bear in 
this, my last trap, but here lay three, an old one and her two 
yearlings, all caught beneath the same downfall. One of the 
cubs was alive and unharmed, but could not extricate himself, 
so I carried him home alive all right. The other skins I 
have tanned and these two trophies I use at home for rugs." 



OVER THE TRAPPING LINE. 



HIGH up the hills are cronies sitting 
With breezes blowing gently by ; 
Far from camp they sit waiting 
For the dewy leaves to dry. 

O'er the trapping line repairing, 
Tenting here on their return ; 

Now the morning much enjoying 
With the rising of the sun. 

Just behind them poles and crotches, 
Blackened back logs and the embers ; 

Bed of fir boughs and the impress 
Speaking all of quiet slumbers. 

For their safe and restful sleeping 
Thankful hearts, the cronies feel 

To the One that has the keeping 
Of the wildwood, hill and dale. 

Breakfasted at early dawning, 
Now the sun has just arisen ; 

'Tis a bright September morning, 
Bidding fine for day and even'g. 



> 

o 

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a 

a 
o 
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o 

3 

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a 

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23S The Aroostook Woods. 



Shelter tent with bag and blanket, 
Rifle, axe and coffee kettle 

Lie behind them on the granite. 
Just below them runs the trickle. 

Speak the cronies oft of starting 
On their way down the rill ; 

Yet they linger ere the parting 
From the sightly granite hill. 

For the birds are ever winging 
Back and forth o'er the divide, 

And at sunrise all are singing 

Through the forest far and wide. 

The sparrow and the chickadee 
Always friendly, now and then 

Light upon the round wood tree, 
While often chats the little wren. 

The moose bird sitting on a pole 
Whistles notes so wild and weird ; 

Tame and saucy, ever droll, 
Mimicks many another bird. 

While from the pine tree oft they hear 
The sparrows song so gladly heard ; 

Soft and sweet, and long and clear, 
Come cheery notes of this loved bird. 

They can see an ancient monarch 
Firmly standing straight and tall, 

See the lightning's ruthless mark 
Above the other tree tops all. 



Over The Trapping Line. 



2 39 



And just below them on its side 
Rests a pine tree on the ground ; 

Men were born, have lived and died 
Since its prime, and yet 'tis sound. 

There is built upon the pine 

A wooden trap with heavy crusher ; 
This is on the trappers line, 

And is for the cruel Fisher. 

All the way as they were coming, 
Wooden traps were oft repairing ; 

Hunting axe was ever swinging, 
Rusty steel traps often oiling. 

Thick about them granite boulders, 
Scattering fir trees, little spruces ; 

Just beside them at their shoulders, 
Mountain ash tree red with berries. 

Here was once the eagles eyrie, 
Now his call is never 'heard ; 

Who could ere so thoughtless be 
As to harm this kingly bird. 

Oh the lovely autumn morning, 
Breezes blowing rich and rare ; 

Johnny Frost has been adorning 
All the woodland far and near. 

Green and red and golden yellow 

And the moosewood's mottled leaves ; 

All around is rich and mellow, 

A balmy fragrance from the trees. 



240 The Aroostook Woods. 

Sun now well up o'er the hill top 
On its journey nearer heaven ; 

Drinking every little dew drop 
Cronies onward march again. 

Leave the rocks of granite bleaching 
On their south and sunny side ; 

With the ferns and mosses peeping 
From the north side where they hide. 

Leave the down pines sleeping, dreaming, 
Beneath the spruce and rocky waste, 

Where the eagle once was screaming, 
Where the nighthawk makes her nest. 

Down beneath the chubby spruces 
Leave behind the fell delighting ; 

Stepping over ferns and mosses 
As little streamlet calls inviting. 

Now the way is down the woodland 
And oft beside the little streamlet ; 

Beauty shows on every hand 

From the gray rocks to the inlet. 

All the way is pleasant walking, 
Quiet chatting, naught to do ; 

Listening, watching, all observing, 
Down the line to the canoe. 

By the large, old hollow pine, 
Close beside the trapping line ; 

Here cronies peeping in, discern 
Black twinkling eyes of porcupine. 



Over The Trapping Line. 241 

He is safe from fisher there, 

The black cat cannot harm him now ; 

For a ball of needles sharp and bare, 
Would penetrate his cheek and brow. 

Now they cross an ancient pine road, 

Where it passes over streamlet ; 
'Tis said a lifetime since 'twas .used, 

When mostly pine was cut for market. 

Wet and miry where it crosses, 

Needed bridging, bridge in view ; 
Once juniper logs, now level mosses, 

Yet underneath as sound as new. 

And the oldest stump of mosses free, 
Plainly show T s the axe blows given ; 

Where are the men that cut the pine tree ? 
Where the men that drove the oxen ? 

Far above, the whispering pine tree 

Seemed the answer, high in ether ; 
" Here are all that ever left thee, 

Here man and pine tree live on ever 



. ■>■> 



"All are here in happiest bands, 
Where all is joy and love forever ; 

In these bright golden forest lands, 
Our silvery lakes are ruffled never." 

Now the streamlet hastening downward, 
Falls in many a pebbly pool ; 

Where cronies stealing softly forward, 
See smallest trout in waters cool. 



2^.2 The Aroostook Woods. 

Here's the deer trail, plain to sec. 
And where they tarry for a drink ; 

A steel trap hangs behind a tree, 
To set for martin or for mink. 

Where the spruce logs once were piled up, 
Awaiting snows Eor road to stream, 

Grow the birches, many a fine group, 
Here arc partridge often seen. 

These sunny spots near brook or spring 
The partridge Love, some birchen mound; 

If but one escapes by taking wing 

lie brings a mate to this loved ground. 

Here the old camp once was standing, 
Now thrifty birches, second growth ; 

Here cronies see the partridge budding 
As they are passing back and forth. 

And after feeding from the birch top, 
Eating birch buds in the sun, 

They all sit happy on a hillock, 
Wrapped in sunshine every one. 

Each way running from old camping- 
Are grassy old roads, sunny, green ; 

Running in and out, and branching, 
Often here a deer is seen. 

On these old roads, grass, and clover, 
With sunny openings, shady cover; 

Such pleasant spots have many a lover, 
Enticing every wild-wood rover. 



Over The Trapping Line. 243 

Near this camping runs tMe streamlet, 

All sparkling in the sun to-day, 
With deeper pools and larger troutlet ; 

Here cronies while an hour away. 

In <iuiet, and watching for a deer, 

Neil her seem in haste to move on, 
Until a cronie speaks out clear, 

"Let's to the lake and have the luncheon I ' 

" Agreed ! " a cronie answers ; " stride 1 

To the inlet, then the lakeside; 
Then to the little mountain hrookside, 

Where the view is far and wide." 

Soon they reach the mossy land, 

Leave behind the birchen timber; 
Peeping through they see the bend, 

See the water's sunny shimmer. 

Here they find their birch canoe 

Turned from wet and in the shade, 
Safely hidden from all view 

Beneath the trees beside the glade. 

Down the inlet now they glide, 

With delight they make the change, 

For cronies love the waters wide 
As they love the hills to range. 

Down by the quiet, drooping larches 

Past the sand)', grassy islands; 
Past the leaning arbor-vitaes, 

To the lakeshore's points and sands. 



2 1 | The A.ROOSTOOK Woods. 



And whik' sailing down tin* inlet 

Bow-end cronie skips the fly, 
Takes half a dozen spotted troutlet, 

Prepares them on the way to fry, 

( )ut upon broad, open water 

Speeds the bark as dip the paddles, 

Thankful for tin- sunny weather, 
Light of heart as flitting swallows. 

Yet in their souls a depth of Eeeling, 
A grateful, quiet, happy gladness; 
While o'er the wildwood shadows sailing, 

On a minor of llis hills and valleys. 

Around the rocky point of white sands, 
With just a zephyr from the west winds, 

( rently lifting up the fir ends. 

Here eronies land at Toot of highlands 

Here they land them at the luookside, 

At the welcome hour oi noonday ; 
And while the luncheon they provide 

The merry songsters trill the lay. 

Mere the earihou have been drinking — 
'The tracks were made the nighl before j 

Up the hemlock an owl sits blinking, 
Waiting for the sun to lower. 

Hut as the smoke is wafted to him. 

Eyes open wide and with a sneeze, 

Quickly leaves his shady limb 

And sails away behind the trees. 



( )\ i.i; Tii b Trapping I jne. .• \ s 

By i he brook a hawk is living ; 

I lehind the I rees i he squirrels hide ; 
I n i he pool are waters falling, 

Singing down iis rocky side 

The soitly flying Canada Jay 

[8 always present ;ii their eating; 
Sees the smoke though far away, 

Sits handy, watching, patient, waiting. 

( )Yr the brook the thrush are chatting, 

Four black eyes are giving glances, 
Some disturbed from noonday napping 

Yet Eriendly near l»y in the branches. 

I \y the brook i he rocks are mossy, 
Graceful Inns beside them grow 'ing ; 

Tiniesl grasses fine and Mossy 

Waiving with the currents flowing. 

Midway the brook on ;i mossy log, 

Waters gurgling out-and l>y him 
Siis ;i lit! le spotted Erog, 
Often winking at .1 sunbeam. 

Now sitiin^ quite siill after luncheon, 

Pari in shadow, pari in sunshine; 
Always much to please attention 

While they On the shore recline. 

Fire extinguished quickly always 

On such warm and pleasant days, 
For the wary woodland rovers 

Do not like the smoky w.iys. 



2 \G The Aroostook Woods. 



Down the Lake a loon is calling, 
Swallows flying through the air; 

Autumn leases arc slowly falling 
Zig zagging down to shore. 

Upon the shore come little wavelets 

Flip, zip, lapping alway ; 
On them borne are little leaflets, 

Landing on the pebbly shoreway. 

In the pool dwell baby troutlel ; 

Oft they venture oul to wavelet, 
When fearing they are rather small yet 

Hasten back to sheltered brooklet. 

Across the lake a fo\ is drinking, 
Yel while lapping on his guard 

Sees the lish hawk's shadow coming, 
Skips for COVer, he's a coward. 

O'er (he lake the fish hawk flying 

Ol't as motionless in space; 
Downward ever keenly eyeing 

For a fish near sunny snrlac •. 

Forward, turning, circling, hovering, 

Now he makes a trembling slay ; 
Now straight downward he is darting, 
Upward rising with his prey. 

Faraway a partridge drumming, 

'Tis like a young one, his first courting; 

Drums to have his lady bird coming, 
Always comes, but slowly, loitering. 



Over T«e Trapping Line. 247 

Lakeside; songster, singing sparrow, 

Oil repeals his whistling tl l see;" 

His call today and call tomorrow 

Will always please the listening cronie. 

Nature now seems dreamily resting, 

The chatting thrushes <|iiiel keep ; 
The moose hird's head beneath his wing, 

The little frog lias winked to sleep. 

A cronie's low tones, soothing proving, 

The listening cronie now reposing; 
The watching cronie, nothing moving 

Against the hemlock soon is dozing. 

Beside the birch bark lightly lapping, 

Little wavelets come and go ; 

Lulling cronies, keeps them napping, 
While ceaseless is the brook let's ilow. 

By the north bank while they rest, 
rjp the shore a buck is stalking; 

Wave and zephyr from the west 
Both are with him in his walking. 

Nearer, slowly nearer wading, 

Nipping grasses tender growing, 
Just above the waters flowing, 

While the cronies both are snoring. 

Soon he espies the birch canoe 
I ,\ ing quite si ill on the shore ; 

At first, surprised at something new, 

Then thinks he's seen the log before. 



-VfS The Aroostook Woods. 



Not a blue jay for the whole da\ 
Have the cronies heard or seen ; 

But it awake now they would sa\ , 

u Hoar the blue jay's warning scream. 

Buck steps nearer, gives a stare 
At the cronies resting there ; 

Throws up his head, snuffs the air; 
A zephyr whispers, " All is fair." 

Now the moose bird on a dipper 
Sends it rolling down the bank, 

And the bine jay screaming nearer. 
Buck paws the water, gives a stamp. 

A\ ake the cronies, each are shivering, 
See the whole thing at a glancing; 

Shots are tired, as often quivering, 
Buck goes safely, gaily prancing. 

Cronies look each to the other. 

Neither have a word to say, 
While the moose bird strokes a feather, 

Laughing bine jays fly away. 

Yet music-making little brooklet 

And gentle winds to please combine, 

A> cronies gather up the out lit 
And paddle to the lower line. 

Dancing, skipping down the shoreway, 

Skimming o'er the waters blue, 
The wavelets with the grasses play, 
Far back behind the birch canoe. 



• • 



Over 'I'm: Trapping Line. 2 \cj 

Between the shore and bushy islands, 
Where each year the loons are nesting; 

Then o'er the bar of whitest sands, 
Gliding on through rushes rustling. 

Anon they reach a sapling pine 

Which marks a path they're often tramping, 
And there we leave them on the line, 

Slowly jogging 1o home camping. 




1) 



13 

O 

pa 
i— i 

<! 
O 






THE CAPTAIN AND CREW. 



IT is many years since, and at first thought, it would not seem 
that half of them had passed and gone, with their many clear, 
bright, sunny, autumn days, when with dog and gun we 
tramped the hills and ridges, and visited the beech nut groves, 
often returning late and through the shadows, but with many 
a ruffled grouse. And later when the snowy winter came, we 
tracked the wary buck so untiringly over his many wanderings 
with scarcely a thought of weariness. Should you, my com- 
panion of many rambles through the forest, and over the 
waters, chance to read this description of one of our many ex- 
cursions, your memory will serve you as mine does, that 
although the time passed too quickly, yet we enjoyed every 
moment of it. Now at the first, I call to mind a few remarks 
you made to the little gray as she was gaily trotting, when com- 
ing home with us from those upper lakes which we had been 
visiting, she seeming as brimful of joyousness as ourselves, sit- 
ting behind her, as we were swiftly rolling down the old soldier 
road that lovely day in the late Indian summer, when the 
little gray was actually covering a good ten miles an hour, com- 
ing down the long grades on that lovely old road. The old 



2^2 The Aroostook Woods. 

concord wagon, with its noisy, clucking axels had outrun the 
cluck, and was giving us an imitation of the railway train on 
a down grade (like, we will say, the new straight line, "Bangor 
and Aroostook," when it shall come, swift and smoothly glid- 
ing across this same old Aroostook road, direct, slap, bang, 
spank ! right into the towns of Aroostook). When the birch 
bark canoe that was securely lashed upon the two wheeled 
calamity towing behind us, had stopped its bouncing, seeming 
now as if yet smoothly running over the surface of dead 
brook, and you again Whispering, "quiet, lay low ; black ducks 
ahead ! " I see you holding on your gray derby hat, I steady- 
ing the little mare, when you say "Let her go pard ! go it Lil ! 
gaily for home if you wish to," as she trotted right through 
a covey of partridges in the way, scattering them to right and 
left, and up in the evergreens beside the road, the little gray 
fairly flying. " Go it little lady ! never mind the birds, as we 
have plenty ; run all the game out of the old road if you wish ; 
you cannot take from us any of our six weeks of good time 
which we have had in these last twenty-one days." 

I see you shaking hands with Uncle Nat, our good natured 
host, upon the shore at parting, when the canoe, lifted from 
the " calamity " was ready packed for launching out, resting 
stern end upon the sandy shore, while the bow end was lightly 
bouncing up and down upon the waves, with your humble crew 
in the bow end impatiently balancing his paddle, Uncle Nat 
still grasping your right hand as you ease up the birch w r ith 
your left. And on those fat, red cheeks of his, the happy 
smile, w r hen we promise to remember his request : that we 
again save for him some bear or cub steak, his mouth fairly 
watering at the recollection of a former contribution ; he wipes 
off his smooth shaven chin with his red bandana, and gaily 



The Captain and Crew. 253 



waves us a bon voyage, as we both dip together for the white 
caps just ahead, and the chain of lakes, with their inlets and 
outlets, their many brooks and clear little brooklets far be- 
yond. 

Good-bye Uncle Nat, we, too, since then have wished you 
bon voyage, and truly believe that when you landed from your 
last, years past, your spirit was welcomed upon the golden 
shore. 

Looking over our shoulder when a long way up the lake, 
we can see Uncle Nat leading the little gray over the hill to 
pasture for three weeks of freedom, while we are paddling 
away from civilization, unharnessed from business cares for the 
same length of time. And on we move, but not any too fast to 
please us, as we have the w r ind nearly ahead. Dip, dip, we 
ply the paddles, keeping the nose of the birch bark canoe a 
little quartering to the waves, heading up as near as possible 
to make our point, which is the mouth of the inlet and the 
river. Often this is a hard pull, as today, with a pretty heavy 
sea. It is no time to swap jack knives when the waves are 
rolling lively ; you must watch them and handle your frail 
craft accordingly. 

And she obeying like a well trained pony, feels the guiding 
hand, holds her head just right, is on the top of the large 
wave when it breaks, gliding down with it serenely, and then 
entirely escaping the next big one, heads up again for the 
daddy of them all, which she cannot escape ; quick and lively 
now she goes, and balancing upon the very top, high above 
the little valleys all around, proudly bows her head to old 
boreas and all his threatenings, and gracefully settles down 
from over the big wave, and on steadily as before. 

We are now where the wind sweeps the lake with its greater 



254 The Aroostook Woods. 

force, and requires care, a little sleight of hand and steady, 
strong pulling at times, to aid the little lady in her proud and 
even bearing. But she is a daisy and rides the waves like a 
duck. Yet we are just now not filling our pipes or telling 
long stories. The Captain, in the stern, is frequently taking 
long, vigorous pulls as we wish to ride a wave nicely ; again a 
quick, strong dip or two with the proper twist of the paddle 
in the water, sends her right by the big bouncer that breaks 
just astern of us, sending its white spray in the air, while the 
crew in the bow is pulling ahead steadily, and occasionally, by 
curving strokes, assisting to right or left. 

And now, at last, we are leaving the large waves behind ; the 
wind is not as heavy here, the work lighter, the waves are 
growing smaller, and we head straight for our point over the 
smoother water. The wind is lulling and the forest breaks its 
force, so we ease up on the labor part ; the Captain dips light- 
ly, yet she speeds along full faster than before. The crew 
takes advantage of this, lays aside his paddle and picks up the 
brierivood. The mouth of the river is just before us, and as 
we approach it a flock of black ducks fly up from out the flags 
upon our right, and circling well around us and far above the 
trees, lay their course straight for the lake above. 

In the quiet river, by its wide mouth, and upon its still waters 
we now slip along almost without a sound, closed in upon 
each side by thick evergreens. Here the last sight of man or 
human habitation is shut out entirely. How much later in the 
day it seems to be here ; the sun is well up as yet in the west- 
ern sky, but kept mostly shut out by the dense foliage of the 
evergreens. 

Now good-bye to all cares or troubles ; pains, aches, or 
sickness comes not here ! What, never? Hardly ever. Well, 



The Captain and Crew. 255 

why? I cannot tell you half the why's. Fit up I Strike for 
the forest, lake, and stream. Stay September and October, 
It's the only way to really understand it. My companion 
stops paddling, while the canoe keeps on without a dip of the 
paddle, so used is she to do our bidding. 

"Well, what's the matter, Cap?" 

" Is not this grand," says he. 

" Ah, the scene impresses you ! " 

And why should it not. All up the bank upon our right, 
on large and small, the late afternoon sun is gilding the sides 
and tops of the firs and spruces, while through the openings 
between we can see upon the mixed, wooded, higher land 
beyond and above, many golden-topped evergreens high 
over all. And now upon the bank again, between the golden 
trees and at their roots, we notice the granite boulders so old 
and bleached, and some moss covered and gray, showing their 
heads among the dwarfed red maples and baby evergreens, all 
in pleasing harmony, while at the feet of all, the glistening 
ripples along the shore adds a pretty line of beauty. While 
on our left, the dark, thick spruce and fir trees, growing so 
thick upon the mossy bank, shut out the sunlight from below 
and mirror themselves in the water beneath, true to the real 
above. Our " little lady" moving slowly and lightly along 
over the centre of the narrow river so deep and quiet, shows 
her counterpart keeping her company. Away ahead and far 
behind the scene is but little changed. 

" Hark ! hear the bell bird." 

"Ah, yes indeed, that's him; how pretty, and how fitting 
to the pretty river with its dark shady, and light sunny 'bank. 
Well has the rare bird shown his good taste in choosing his 
home to ring the only bell to be appreciated here. God 



2^6 The Aroostook Woods. 

himself speaks to us here, in language that needs not the 
loud and long crash and clang of big, brassy bells to gain our 
attention." 

" Mr. Crew, I rather like the belles ; its rather lighter." 
"What, the belles?" 

" No ; we are getting out of the shadows. See ! yonder is 
the old rolling tier, and don't you remember the nice brook ? ' 
" Surely sure ! all sereno ; let's camp." 
(t Correct ; it 's high time we were about it." 
And we take a broad sweep around, near to the opposite 
side of the stream, so as not to disturb the trout, cross and 
land just above the brook and trout pool, upon the grassy 
camping ground. Lifting the canoe a little on shore, side on, 
we commence, with a " hurry up boys," on the camping for 
the night. Firearms are taken out and placed to be both safe 
and handy. Next the tent, which is soon in position. The 
canoe is then unloaded and turned bottom up upon two 
logs, in such a manner as to keep its proper shape, and its 
contents placed part in the tent, the balance safely housed 
beneath the canoe. Seeing driftwood in abundance, lying 
handy on the shore, with our favorite fir boughs close by for 
the fragrant spring bed, the worthy captain takes his fly rod 
and is soon whipping the pool for our supper. High ! a rise 
at the first cast. The wood collected, bough bed completed, 
sleeping bags spread out upon it, lantern hanging in place in 
the tent, we touch off a Portland star match and our fire is 
quickly burning just in front. Camping in some spots would 
use up much time compared with this ; but with everything 
handy, your coat off, jolly hungry, sun about down, you can 
accomplish it in almost the time that one can write out the 
modus operandi . Straightening up to take a good long 



The Captain and Crew. 257 

draught of the rich, pure air we feel drifting down upon us 
from up the stream, and off the trees, we hear from the 
captain. 

" Hillo ! cut off some pig pork and parboil in the small fry 
pan." 

"Aye, aye, sir." 

This is placed upon the fire, resting upon the back log and 
fore stick, which is raised nearly a foot from the ground, 
giving room for draught and chance to feed the fire beneath 
as we please. As the pork is freshened and fried, the captain 
shows up with his large fry pan full of trout, placed in after 
his own usual style, leaving scarcely room for a minnow in 
any place. 

" Well, Cap, this is gay and fine ; being rather busy, I did 
not see you catching many. Isn't this a pretty mess? ' 

"Well, yes, rather, with a half dozen larger ones lying 
upon the canoe." 

" So there is." 

He now monopolises the clear end of the fire, inadvertently 
of course, which we yield apparently with a good grace, 
knowing he cannot be outdone in the cooking any more than 
in the catching of them. 

Supper. Elegantly browned trout ; half a dozen of 
Uncle Nat's new land potatoes, boiled ; one raw onion each ; 
bread and butter ; cup of tea ; Aroostook doughnuts. 

Supper over and all made clean again, the captain leans 
back and quietly enjoys his cigar, while the crew, upon this 
occasion, under the circumstances, and after such a trout 
supper, still clings to his old love, the brierwood. Sitting 
upon our camp stools by a cheerful fire, we enjoy the last of 
this fine day and evening. The stars are shining out, not 



25S The Aroostook Woods. 

too thickly, which we take as a good indication for a tine 
to-morrow. Some little bird, sitting among the trees upon 
the opposite shore, and seeing our fire brightening up, and 
being only just a little bit sleepy, gives us a part of his song, 
reserving the long, joyous strains until sun up in the morning. 
Now and then a far-away fox snaps out his little sharp bark, 
calling his mate to accompany him upon another of his 
nightly rambles, to pounce upon poor bunny if possible, or 
the young and giddy grouse that gets much good advice, but 
will often roost too low. A musquash swimming smoothly 
past without a sound, nor indicating what might be his 
propelling power, though his rudder plainly shows behind, 
is not at all startled while passing through the line of firelight, 
yet dives instantly at the snap of a brand. One wide-awake 
silver roach is yet lying in wait, just beneath the surface of 
the fire-lighted water, often showing his glistening scales 
above as he pops out after some very unfortunate insect which 
should have been quietly sleeping beneath the drooping alder 
leaves. 

Having finished our smoke, the fire burned down to a few 
coals, which even these have a cheerful look as the light breeze 
blows away the white ashes from them and they show again 
brightly, we get us a drink from the cool brook and step 
inside the tent, button snug the entrance and say good night 
to all the furry, feathery, and scaly tribes of forest and stream, 
and get our sleep. 

We are awakened at daybreak next morning by a heavy 
bear leaping quickly by the tent, the ground trembling beneath 
his weight as if a small earthquake were coming. Likely, he 
was on his w r ay home from one of his visits to a settler's sheep 
pasture, so much elated with his success that he trotted right 
up beside us before taking the hint. 



The Captain and Crew. 2^9 

" Had he only telegraphed a little sooner with his whistle," 
said the captain, " we would have arisen earlier to receive 
him." 

The tent flaps are tied back and the fire soon blazing. 
After a good cool bathing of the face and hands at the river, 
with plenty of good "Welcome" soap (always needed when 
camping,) we are again all fresh for the day. Firstly, 
breakfast seems to be in order for the first move always, 
and we immediately trot out the wherewith, and make the 
coffee, which in a short time, with the dry driftwood fire, is 
sending its aroma out on the breeze. And now we have the 
fried pork ready for the trout ; in fact it is too near the 
crisping point, and we are just taking it off the coals in front 
of the fire when we hear peculiar exclamations from the 
captain and see him reaching for his rifle. 

" Oh ! you little thief, but I will — no, I will not shoot you 
after all, for your fur is not prime. That's too cute for 
anything ; same time I want to kill you." 

A mink, with the very last one of the trout which were on 
the canoe bottom, was just entering the stream with it in her 
mouth, when he first saw her, and was now swimming with 
it, safely across to a heap of driftwood upon the opposite 
shore, where her whole mink family were likely feasting upon 
the others. We substitute a partridge in place, though the 
fish are jumping at the moment within thirty feet of us. But 
fried partridge, quickly browned, for a change, cut not too 
thin, just right, is not over-coarse eating, we tell the captain, 
as he is, or rather** has been known to demur somewhat 
against this frying process. But now our breakfast is ready. 

At home, they are about this time in the morning just 
turning over for their best sleep ; while we, having retired 



260 The Aroostook Woods. 

early and slept very warm and soundly, are well rested and 
refreshed at daybreak Sleeping warm and comfortable 
through the night adds much to the enjoyment of an outing, 
and really is essential „ 

For fall and winter we use the "buffalo bags," which are 
made from the larger skins of the buffalo trimmed to a 
straight edge upon three sides, the long neck part and curly 
pate left intact. Lined with a good firm blanketing, which 
mav be of some pretty figure, or bright plaid — as it is to be 
the outside, sleeping next to the warm fur — sewed up in the 
form of a bag, with a firm, deep stitch and the best of 
doubled threads. Try something like tills, fellow sportsmen, 
when the occasion requires, and let those that laugh while 
warmest be the winners. Sleeping in these hand)' beds, so 
much better than the blankets, we can turn and turn again, 
and are always snugly tucked in, usually needing no fire the 
first of the hunting season to sleep by. 

Later and when the snow comes, the addition of a good 
larcre caribou skin beneath us, tanned with its thick warm hair 
left upon it, an additional blanket over us, and if camping in 
a tent a nice cosy fire through the night at our feet, the tent 
flaps tied back and we are very comfortable, even during the 
verv cold nights. Then let the pure bracing air whistle around 
our ears ; it only gives us a fine appetite for a good hearty 
breakfast, which fits us for the tramp over the hills after the 
wary game, which we must have while camping in the 
forest. 

We remarked to the captain as we sat down to breakfast 
that at home they were likely yet sleeping, while we were up 
in the cheery morning early, before the sun ; and have been 
sitting clown beside a jolly fire out in the open air, fully ap- 



The Captain and Crew. 261 

preciating our coffee, and are now in the best of spirits, 
having satisfied a regular woodsman's appetite. The sun is 
just rising above the trees, the birds as usual in the bright 
mornings singing and calling everywhere around us, and the 
trout leaping in the pool, when we repack our canoe, wet 
down the fire and push away for up river. 

The worthy captain takes his paddle at the first, and has 
placed the pole handy when occasion may require it, and as 
he dips away in the pleasant morning, our birch bark canoe 
moves gaily over the smooth water, as if like her captain, full 
of happy buoyant spirits. The crew, in answer to the captain's 
kind enquiries, having eaten a good breakfast, and now enjoy- 
ing a fragrant smoke of old Virginny, says he feels very well 
generally, thank you captain, and now as he often does, under 
such and other hilarious circumstances, speaks to the captain 
now and again about things, and really for the captain's good, 
and in the most kindly and advising manner always from best 
intentions ; but is grieved for the captain's sake, only, that this 
is not always appreciated according to its full value, nor al- 
ways too well received, though given him without any charge, 
and often after having been studied upon in the most philoso- 
phisticatory ( ?) maimer. 

"Now don't dip too strong on the first start captain ; lets go 
stilly and shoot a caribou ; and I enjoy your merry whistle at 
the camp — but, no — don't hum "you're left blooming alone," 
when you're just budding out. We're off for a free and easy 
time ; lets not hurry at all, it's no sign of a good sportsman 
to be hasty ; not the proper thing at all. Let's take the easy 
part in the most easy way possible, and save our strength for 
the hard water and the carries, and when there is so much to 
interest us we will slowly wind our way around the winding 
turns, and — did you articulate captain?" 



262 The Aroostook Woods. 

"Ahem, I forgot to pick you a bouquet of cow lilies before- 
starting." 

Coming now to swift running water the captain lays aside 
his paddle, takes the pole, and as the steel point clinks upon 
the rocky bottom, the little lady raises her head slightly and 
goes leaping up between the rocks and over the rapid water 
in a style that is the admiration of the whole crew, and as our 
praises are poured out to the worthy captain rather volumi- 
nously, we are promised, much to our disgust, that he will 
teach us how to do it all alone by ourself, while he prome- 
nades the shore and gives directions. 

Occasionally, in the bow end the crew makes a display of 
wonderful aptness, by quickly pushing his paddle between the 
bow of the bark and an ugly, jagged rock, but finds it seldom 
necessary. Yet the one in the bow should be in readiness and 
quick at times to fill his place. 

Wishing to straighten out a bit, and lighten up the bow end 
of the canoe, we step ashore, leaving the captain to pole up a 
long piece of shoal, though quick water, by himself. Rising 
the ridge running parallel with the river I travel along toward 
the top of it, in hopes of seeing some of the gentlemen that 
carry upon their heads a nice set of antlers, as they frequently 
leave their tracks along beside the shore. 

Perhaps at this moment I am even now passing by an ele- 
gant buck, with beautiful horns, just a little out of sight yet, 
seeing nothing of him, while he is quietly looking me over 
through the trees ; and after I have passed stands perfectly 
still, or takes just one step, with raised head and wondering 
eyes, thinking what manner of beast is this now walking by. 
Does some one remark thev do not reason or think? Surely I 
have seen them when they thought to get away quick was the 



The Captain and Crew. 263 

first thing to be thought of. I have often thought, could we 
catch the scent of a deer borne upon the breeze like the 
hound, it would be a power in the way of still hunting. Do I 
hear another remark that I must be a deer pig? Oh no 
indeed, for there are times I could sell myself wonderfully 
cheap. " No more cow lilies please." 

After travelling quite a piece along upon the ridge, I start 
away obliquelv toward the stream again, and soon come to 
one of those small brooks, so clear and cool, it does one's heart 
good to gaze upon it ; and how it cheers one up if a little 
strayed perhaps, and almost choking for a drink, to catch the 
sounds of its first low murmurs upon the breeze. You stop, 
eagerly listen, and now are fully convinced that 'tis the merry 
brooklet just on ahead, calling to you in its low, melodious 
tones, and soon liquid and clear it sounds to you, and keeps 
calling, saying, come, come, come ; here I am and pleased 
to see you ; pretty, laughing water I am always called. Come 
and court me ; I am not false hearted, and can never give yo?i 
cause to hate me though you love me; and I am always blithe 
and gay, running, leaping, waltzing, dancing, singing through 
the woodland. 

Many lovers have I, which never pass me by, 

But stop to kiss me as they go, and laughing on again I flow. 

But, oh ! the cruel choppers, they are cutting. Always 
cutting down my pretty trees, which I so love and so much 
depend upon ; and can you believe me, kneel down and kiss 
me, while I murmur low, for I can only whisper this : 
" Those fat fellows, the lumber -men, often dam 7nc." 

Yet while I may, I will be gay, 

Laugh and sing while on my way. 

True to the trout, true to the deer. 
And all my lovers that visit me here. 



264 The Aroostook Woods. 

You are a pretty little brook with a clean, pebbly bottom, 
deep little pools and bright sandy bars, and have really told 
us true ; for now, just here, are the heads and feet of what was 
some of your noble trees. And just below again, we see that 
several old giants of the ridge have at the last laid down 
across your banks, as if they loved you to the end ; and rather 
than to fall and lie mouldering upon the lower ground away 
from you, they leaned always toward you until the very last, 
and then laid down beside the little brook they had so long 
sheltered and shadowed, your loves being mutual. 

But the little brook, always alive, is always flowing to 
moisten the roots of the old and the young trees, and as we 
move down beside it, it is going with us, running in and out 
among the rocks, and down a quicker descent to a tiny dead 
water, with a little fringe of alders, at the head of which the 
white gravel worked off in clean beds, speaks plainly, as being 
another spawning ground for the trout. 

Again with happy, gurgling laugh, it is running between 
and eddying around the rocks, to repeat its merry tumbling at 
the bottom beside the river. Coming in sight of the river we 
espy the captain, who has grounded the canoe upon a sand 
bar, a little below, and while waiting for the crew, has strung 
up his lancewood, and is just right in his glory. 

The noisy brook helps me to get quite near to him behind 
some bushes without his seeing me. He is standing in mid 
stream with pole bent, paying out, and then reeling up again. 
The sun behind a cloud is nearly hidden, and just a pretty 
ripple waving over the stream. The picture, coming a little 
unexpectedly upon it, has an interest. I sit down upon a 
rock, and watch, to read his pleasure from his face. I cannot 
see just where the fish is, while fighting, but he is using all 



The Captain and Crew. 265 

his tact to keep him from entangling in the alders. Now his 
satisfied smile, plainly says he has him about played. He 
reels up, and soon has his head in the bottom of the landing 
net, the tail flapping near the ring of it. I step out upon the 
scene. 

" Well Cap, caught any? " 

" Hillo you ! aren't that any ? " 

"I should think so ; what will he weigh ; two pounds?' 

"I'll take you over. " 

A slapping on the water in mid stream above him, attracts 
my attention, and looking, I see a rock, placed upon another 
rock, holding secure a withe, upon which are strung a half 
dozen or more very large trout. 

" Had some fun I guess, by the looks, out there." 

" Well, yes ; I never saw trout snap a fly prettier, but they 
dart for the alders. I must leave them now if I wish to save 
my leaders and flies, but I venture to say I could load you 
down if I wished to kill them." 

" A nice string they are Cap ; we must split and broil one 
for our supper." 

We string on the extra nice one, push around the canoe, and 
pole away from a nice fishing chance. 

" Where did you hit the brook pard ? " 

" A half a mile over beyond." 

"Gamey?" 

"Very, and full of spawning chances; caribou and deer 
tracks and their crossings. They have a trail to and by one 
piece of rips ; have crossed today, by the look." 

" Why didn't you shoot one ? " 

" Please tell me what we could do with a big buck on top 
of this load in the little lady?" 



266 



The Aroostook Woods. 



tk Would you have shot one upon the river bank?" 

'* "Would ;i duck a swimmingf <i"o ? " 

Another nice piece of smooth and easy water, and we both 
ply tlu- paddle. Footprints of the large game upon the shore, 

and tracks upon the bottom where they have crossed and 
waded out, and ploughed up the Opposite bank. [".USl around 

a turn in the river we come upon a covey of partridges thai 
have walked out from the hushes upon a sand bar, and are 
picking now and then at (he gravel, and hesitating about 
flying over to the opposite side, as if the younger birds are as 
usual waiting a while lo gel their courage up before flying 
over water. 

The captain lays the canoe ashore upon 1 lie other side of 
the stream, reaches his rifle, and orders the crew to he quiet, 
it they can lor once, and to hold the hitch Steady. 

** Say Cap, did you ever gel two of their heads in line, and 
cut 'em both off at one shot, slick and clean? Are'nt they 
cute and pretty, and so tame; just like hens for all the world. 
1 should think you'd be ashamed, too?" 

" Will you be quiet ?" 

" Birdies, if you hesitate another moment you are lost ; can't 
you hear the click of the lock of his old, weather beaten rifle? 
Some of you will lose your pretty little heads soon. Shu, 

hens ! shu ! why don't you shu?" 

"Can you possibly shut up, and stop wriggling?' 

" Why, certainly." 

He lowers, then raises his rifle, and again lowers it down, 

is the} are constantly walking about and picking at the sand, 

not at all frightened, as We are lying close beside the alders. 

One holds his head Steady at last, looking up the stream, 

when, crack ! and he is beheaded. As the body flutters off 



The Captain and Crew. 267 



the sand bar into the water, they all take Bight, part over the 
stream and out of sight ; the others jnsi over where they were 

sitting, and 1 1 1 > in the trees; one silting near upon a dry cedar 
limit, Stretches far out Ins head and neck, when another shot, 
and he, too, is minus his head, his hill and throat part only, 

hanging from his peck. 

*' There ! I told you birdies just how 'twould he-, hut you 

doubted our voracity ; yet this is much better than to have the 

foxes get \*OU, and cruelly crunch your hones, and still I feel 

lor you, or shall after you arc broiled. I will now lay you 

carefully away in the cool end of the canoe, and COVer your 

plump bodies with these green fir boughs from your native 
wildwood. 

Soon another of the many, noisy, small brooks is seen 
running in close at hand from oil the upland, with a jolly 

little cascade near the shore, and another, a twin sister, just 

above. The clear, cool water, as it reaches the river, comes 
rolling and sparkling over the rocks, down among the sunken 
logs lyintf crosswise at the mouth, gurgling under, and 

eddying in and out among the alders and willows along the 

shore, and into the pool, delivering a volume of cool water. 
Such a brook, pouring its cool Waters in the stream or pool iii 

this way so generously, quite a body of water in the river is 

made nearly as cool as the brook itself. And here the 
sportive trout are to be found in the coolest of it ; and surely 
here, if any place in the- stream, when the sun runs high and 

has changed the rivers and lakes to a warmer temperature. 

"Say, JVlr. Crew, don't this look troutish? and how is the 
camping chance ? " 

" Stylish and showy ; wood and water of the very best, and 
another superb fishing chance, surely." 



268 The Aroostook Woods. 



And each are quickly paddling the bark sideways, showing 
us to be of one mind, as we lay the canoe on shore, side on, 
ready and very willing to lay by the paddles for the day, and 
stretch out our legs on shore. 

Our temporary camp is soon coming to order after our 
usual manner, and as it is yet early in the afternoon, we leave 
the captain to finish up the preparations for the night, pick 
up the rifle, and stroll away up the stream. Soon finding 
the old supply road which runs mostly near the stream, but 
occasionally making a little back in the forest, anon the 
stream, comes in sight again, which it follows along beside to 
the next bend in the river, when again it is away in the forest, 
and the stream is bidden adieu for a little way. As we walk 
slowly over the old road we must admit to ourself (but not to 
the captain) that we are always watching for a nice buck ; and 
often, as now, leave the grouse, that eye us for a moment, 
and then, with ruffled feathers, to walk slowly away in the 
bushes beside the road. 

How very still the forest is at times, and you notice this 
full more if alone. A faint soughing of the wind in the tree 
tops overhead ; the low chirp of the wood robin as you pass 
the dark thicket in which he loves to dwell, are all the sounds 
that here break the lovely quiet. 

Now, my dear reader, say you are to-day, this lovely 
autumn day, strolling like myself through this gamey forest 
with your rifle, and still hunting for the larger game. You 
have toiled up the ascending ground to the pleasant old 
supply road that runs along the ridge, followed it for awhile, 
stepping clown and over the little ravine, crossing the brook 
at the same time, and tasting its cool waters (just what you 
have been wishing for) . Then continuing on up again and 



The Captain and Crew. 269 

along the road, you take a seat upon the higher ground, or 
stand motionless, leaning beside a tree to rest you a bit before 
moving on. Your light, creeping tread has not been heard, 
even in this quiet stillness, until just the last step. You arc- 
sitting here looking over all the forest your eyes can take in, 
watching while resting, for the movement of a deer, not 
thinking anything about the smaller game that you do not 
want to shoot at this time, so your eye is traversing the spaces 
three or four feet above the ground. A covey of partridges, 
just a little way beyond you, have either seen or heard you 
coming, while you are not aware of their near presence. The 
birds were, part of them, quite busy before your approach, 
but now, knowing you are near, all are perfectly motionless. 
They were taking their afternoon siesta, after filling their 
crops with the choice pickings. The sun is warm and thev 
have wandered to this sheltered spot, out of the wind, and at 
such times being warm, and comfortably situated, are even 
very lazy, and some of them half asleep. They do not take 
to wing half as quickly as on blustering, windy days, but 
remain quiet, some watching, all ready to spring and fly at 
any instant. Two or three of the birds having 1 found a soft, 
mellow, and warm chance in the rich loam where a tree 
had tipped over, throwing the soil up to the sunshine, were 
dusting themselves, which is a luxury they love to indulge in 
during dry weather. Others were sitting upon the leaves, 
eyes half closed, sleeping in the warm sunshine ; others again 
stretching themselves lazily, reaching far out and downward ; 
a wing and leg stretched out, touching each together at the 
tip ends, head and neck turned a little away. This is 
repeated with the other wing and leg, when, after a good 
shaking of the whole body, and with many a wig-wag of the 



The Aroostook Woods. 



tail half spread, they step around among each other, always 
speaking in whispers, for fear of Reynard and other detestable 
neighbors. 

As you now step forward to continue your cat-like tread 
and stalking, the red squirrel that was hidden mostly behind 
a tree, a few feet beyond on your left, out of your sight also, 
as well as the birds, eating his spruce cone with his eye ever 
on you, now quickly jumps, with an angry bark, around the 
tree, out of your sight again, as you appear opposite ; then 
shies back, and when his sharp eye meets yours, as you 
always have to look at him, he again, with loud scratching 
upon the bark, claws around and runs nimbly up among the 
branches, giving you a long, victorious chitter over his 
wonderful escape. You laugh aloud to see him, braced 
upon all fours, giving quick, convulsive barks at you. Then 
turning to proceed along, take a step or two, when up go the 
whole covey of partridges, all at one time, and together, with 
such a loud whirring of many wings that you are startled 
much more than you care to admit. 

Reader, this is like, and often seen in our dear old Aroos- 
took woods. Often we have passed by, leaving the birds sit- 
ting in the trees just over our heads, not shooting one of them. 
Of course for good reasons — we do not need them when we 
have three or four on hand, with trout at every pool on our 
way ; beside when one wishes to see a deer which may be 
standing near by concealed from you, at the moment watching 
you, it is hardly good judgement to wake the echoes shooting 
grouse. More than that, we will, that we shall not be this 
manner of men that shoot elegant game, leaving it to spoil 
upon the ground, or, later on, having to throw it far away 
from the camp to escape the stench. Passing down the road- 



The Captain and Crew. 271 

way a piece farther on, Ave come to a shady valley between 
the ridges, running to the stream; down through this, lead 3 
quite a trail over which has lately passed some of each, of the 
deer family, and is their runway (or rather walkway, in these 
unfrequented woods) where on the way, they likely cross the 
stream below, and on away through the forest to some cool 
spring or larger waters. Here, now, we see the track of the 
noble moose, who is so much larger than the caribou, vet 
leaves the smaller track, which is like that of the domestic 
cow of the settler, and quite different from that of the caribou, 
which is wide spread, the dew claws often showing in the wet 
soil. And following along, here, too, in this half dry run is the 
fresh track of a bear, or what might be termed freshly made, 
yet the bear crossed it days before, as the track shows it has 
been rained upon since being made, and contains many little 
jxirticles blown from the trees during the last high winds. 

As we are once more leaning beside a tree looking down 
upon the bear's track, so much like those of the big schoolbov 
we used to see in early days, heel prints and toes so similar, 
the only great difference being the long nails, or claws, we 
are suddenly awakened from our day-dream of very earlv 
schoolboy days (the girls and mud pies) by a sound thump 
upon the ground. This revives and brings us around again. 
Looking up the road a buck stands facing, looking toward us ; 
as his eye catches ours, another stamp upon the earth and then 
all we see is his reddish brown rump, a straight up white 
brush and his heels, as he jumps away in the bushes, head 
down, and out of sight. I change my position to a spot a 
little to one side, and to leeward of where he made the jump, 
and wait awhile without seeing him ; and had I given him five 
or ten minutes longer he would have been seen walking to the 



2*J2 THE A.ROOSTOOK Woods. 

place to take another look at me ; but being rather too anxious, 
I crept on his track a piece, and he on his way back seeing me 
first, wheeled, and telegraphed me that he was away now lor 
the lulls and a good long run. 1 was so disgusted with myself 
for not being always on the watch that I returned immediately 
i< i the captain. 

- Well," said he, -what hick?" 

- None." 
14 Shoot any birds? " 



'None." 



k See any big game?" 

i N—n— one." 

' Did you hear or sec the falls above us?" 

k No, sir." 

w \\'cll, what have yon seen?" 

' \ -nothing." 

• Well, Cap, what have you seen?" 
'Nothing." 

'Gracious! what a whopper! 1 heard your rifle." 

k Musquash." 

' Good ! w here is he ! 

' ( )n the coals." 

' What else?" 

1 Nothing." 

' Caught any trout?" 

• N o." 

w What's in the big fry pan ? " 

• Nothing." 

' Let's see?" 
k Let it alone! " 
Bui 1 lift the cowr, and there they were again. It was full 



The Captain and Crew. 273 



of them, all so nicely packed in his same elder maiden lady 
style, spoon fashion, the same as the lumbermen have to sleep, 
well browned upon both sides — not the lumbermen, but the 

trout. 

"Say, Mr. Crew?" 

"Well, sir?" 

" Will you be so kind as to replace the cover on those trout 
again; lay aside your rifle, introduce yourself to that piece of 
'Welcome Soap' upon the canoe bottom, thence to the river- 
side, promenade back and turn out the tea?" 

"Why, certainly, captain; and don't those trout look crispy 
and hue, and they smell so good ; may I then stay to supper 
with you ?" 

Supper. Double dose of double browned trout; broiled 
musquash on toast; extra toast and toasted 011 the coals; tea 

and Mansur's Boston gingersnaps. 

Next in order, wash the dishes; next, one cigar and brier- 
wood pipe; next (and rather slowly, because between whiffs) 
biggest and longest hunting story of hair-breadth escapes, the 
prize to be the skin of the muskrat, to be decided by vote of 
the crew ; next, drive a couple of stakes nearer the tent and 
on a slant toward the stream ; pile the two large back logs 
inside of them, one upon the other, and gel two flat rocks 
from the stream for andirons, of the kind that don't go off in 
the night and shoot us on the spot; place the smaller log on 
these for a fore stick, remove the brands and coals from the 
old lire to the new chance. From the pile of driftwood, 
which is a mixture, pick out some of the best hard wood 
and make the fire, to be lasting, or to give warmth until 
near morning. Next, tie well back the tent flaps to get the 
benefit of this cheerful lire ; also to let in the moonlight, but 



274 The Aroostook Woods. 

not to shine upon our faces. Next, into the buffalo bags, 
upon the spring bed of fir boughs and good night. 

Once more we are up to see the day breaking and the sun 
rise, as we have said before, and we must be repeating, but 
this is a brand new morning; one we never saw before, and 
brings anew to us the cheerfulness, the agreeable sensations 
one can so well appreciate after a well resting sleep, when up 
in the very early pleasant morning. This is the most agree- 
able way for us, as we so much enjoy it. 

Like the schoolboy, anticipating much on his holiday, the 
sun seldom is ahead of us, to shine upon our faces whilst in 
bed. About this time, too, our sleep is light. Any little 
noise ; the first peeping of a bird, handy, or the chattering of a 
Squirrel awakes us and brings us upon our feet to welcome 
these glorious mornings. 

While the crew are getting breakfast, the captain, who yet 
proves a good provider in the fish line, with his fishing line, as 
it is just in his line, is landing a few more half pounders, to 
be sure of trout for his dinner, remarking, "he is just doing 
this for practice, having no voice for trout himself." As the 
sun rises they begin jumping in the pool, and soon their merry 
slaps are as frequent as if 'twere in June ; even in the quick 
water just above some fine ones are sporting, and immediately 
his flies are on the spot most sure to deceive them. Pretty, 
clean, bright, silvery roach are taken two at a time, and allowed 
their freedom again, although they arc a nice, sweet fish, and 
when trout prove scarce are Saved for eating. 

We have just settled the coffee with a little cold water when 
the captain hails the crew. 

"Hillo!" 

"Hi, what's up?" 



The Captain and Crew. 27s 

kk Bring the landing net." 
" Good ! that's the tune." 

We look around, sec his lly rod doubling, and rush down 
with the net. 

"Look sharp now; lake your time ; Ir-'s a dandy, the very 
df?ddy of the school." 

He soon gives up fighting, however, and as he shows up 
along shore I lift him out and present to the captain — a three 
pound /////(/ chub. 

"Ahem! thai settles it; is breakfasl ready?" 

"Sartin sure." 

Breakfast. Fried ham, lots of gravy; Aroostook buck- 
wheat flapjacks, all sizes ; two eggs each, boiled twenty-five 
minutes ; coffee," with condensed milk ; sugar to taste-. 

Everything snugly placed in the bark, we proceed slowly 
upward. The current is strong upon some down grades, but 
the setting pole is always victorious in the struggle over these 
places, and we make fair time. In many places we paddle 
close in shore where the overhanging vines and bushes often 
brush our ears, and after passing one of these we come to a 
cove of shallow and quiet waters; a gamey looking chance, 
with grass and yellow lilies growing near the shores. 

Before fairly in sight of all of this, a heavy splashing in the 
water, and a loud snort, told us evidently what was up. A 
moose! One sweep of the paddle laid us quartering to the 
sound ; two rifles were quickly raised, and our eyes were scan- 
ning the locality, but we could see nothing of the game, it 
was already away. Paddling carefully in and by the spot, we 
saw where it had done some feeding, the roily water it had 
left behind, tracks upon the bottom., among the cow lilies, and 
beyond, its heavy jump through the miry alder ground. We 



2?6 The Aroostook Woods. 



stepped out, drew up the canoe a trifle, and crept about a bit, 
hoping he might wait a moment before taking to the woods, 
but returned without seeing the game. 

We had hardly spoken since the first splash, but now the 
captain says : 

"I told you ! " 

"Yes, you were right enough." 

He spoke of hearing something, and that it must have 
awakened him in the morning, sounding as if in the water, 
and would bet it was a moose. On our return home, passing 
this camping place, we saw the tracks of the moose where he 
entered and left the water, crossing just above our tent. 

Now and again the river broadens out, the waters more 
shoal, and we are often out to stretch a bit and lighten up the 
birch, pushing it along over the sand bars. Quantities of fish 
of different kinds we see in the clear waters. Large ones lying 
upon the bottom could be taken by spearing if one wished, 
but the plump six and eight ounce trout, taken near the brook 
at our campings, are really the best. 

Often the large ones swimming quickly out of the way drop 
back to deeper water and lay quiet, heading up the stream ; 
the captain looking at them longingly and as if about to throw 
the artificial, hesitates but a moment, knowing we shall not 
miss them, and again lifts us forward. 

The muskrat, but little timid here, starts out from the 
bushes to swim across just ahead of the canoe, and seeing us 
so close upon him, his head goes quickly under, his hind legs 
kick once in the air, and he is plainly seen swimming beneath 
in the clear water, making back for the shore again. The 
pretty little water turtle we occasionally pick up as we are 
passing, to examine again their pretty mottled shell, when 



The Captain and Crew. 277 

struggling and kicking for their liberty we drop them in and 
they make their best time for the bottom. 

Away up ahead, a glossy, dark mink is seen upon the rocks 
watching for a trout, or his luscious fresh water lobster, and 
seeing us approaching he darts into the end of a hollow cedar 
lying upon the shore. Coming to this we ground the bark 
upon the sandy bottom of the rips, and as a very little trapping 
is in order on the trip, we set a trap for him inside the log, 
leaving the head and leg of a partridge as a persuader to soon 
come for it over the trap ; and here we find him after dinner 
waiting for us in the trap. 

We back down and cross over to the deeper water, and on. 

" Captain, it's dinner time." 

" Quite true you're saying ; and we must be near some brook 
again, as when you see the mink along the stream at this time 
of the season he is often handy to his favorite little streamlet." 

True enough ; we are soon beside the mouth of another 
rivulet. Selecting a rise of the ground almost within reach 
of the brook, another pleasant spot where we could sit eating 
our dinner, the while having the pretty view up and down the 
river, we build the small fire we wish for the cooking, beside a 
rock, for a chimney, our smoke drifting away from us over 
the bushes and down river. 

" Hillo, Cap, what are you doing down there in the 
smoke ? " 

" Oh, just fishing a bit for a change." 

"What do you wish for dinner, Cap?" 

"Trout." 

" Oh, gracious ! trout again ? " 

" Yes, sir ; trout again ; and trout now." 

And he lifts a nice little fellow, dancing up and down, from 
the reeled up line, slap, against our cheek. 



278 The Aroostook Woods. 

" Say, Cap, what's the matter with having broiled par- 
tridge ? " 

"Nothing. What's the trouble with having both, and a 
boiled potato ? " 

"Nothing; but what's the matter with you, hungry?" 

"Awful, awful hungry." 

"All sereno." 

After dinner, pushing on again, we find the water more 
shoal in many places, and the bottom a bed of round rocks of 
all sizes. Getting a rub now and then makes us cautious, 
when we must slow down to a more moderate speed. As we 
round the turn we can see a long distance up the stream, and 
all the way its quickly moving waters are rippling downward, 
leaping, dancing, all sparkling in the sunlight, eddying around 
the rocks and darting in and out, toward and from the shores, 
falling over little shelves of rocks and bars of sand and gravel, 
old losrs imbedded in the sand and old trees with bare washed 
roots, lying lodged in midstream. 

A point makes out from the foot of the higher land upon 
our risrht, over two hundred yards distant from us. We are 
just loading the brierwood for an after dinner smoke when the 
captain's low "hist" and whisper causes us to look up the 
river. A bear is just stepping into the water from off the 
point, to cross the stream on the rips to the other side, a 
sight we but seldom happen to see, but are often looking for. 
As he commenced his slow march through the shoal water, 
we commenced shoving the birch with our paddles for all we 
could do under the circumstances, to get a little nearer. When 
he was rear midstream and we were hung up by the rocks, 
we laid by the paddles and took up the rifles. At this 
moment, with his head close down to the water, and without 



The Captain and Crew. 279 

raising it at all, he turned it half round and looked sneakingly 
toward us and stopped. The crew fired a shot, and he dipped 
down in the water when it stung him, but moved on in a 
hurrying trot. Then the captain tickled him, scratching his 
back, when he turned completely around and ran the gauntlet 
back, when had he kept on as he was going, a few feet more, 
a good shore was before him. A few steps on his way back 
and he gets another shot, and as he leaps on the faster, another ; 
yet he reaches the bank after a hard struggle, and succumbs 
to circumstances. 

This is quite the usual way for the game, to take back on 
their tracks, thinking they will be safer upon the ground they 
have just before safely passed over. In the excitement, push- 
ing the canoe hurriedly over the rocks after the bear, we made 
a big leak in the bottom, obliging us to haul out for repairs. 

Accordingly the tent was again raised, and in a short time 
we were once more settled down "keeping house." The 
canoe is turned bottom up to the sun to be thoroughly dried, 
and we proceed to remove Mr. Bruin's coat and pants. This 
work, no small trifling job, kept us busy quite a while, and 
with our preparations for the night used up the rest of the 
afternoon. 

The next morning, the captain having procured a suitable 
piece of birch bark, sewed it neatly over the damaged place, 
and with gum from the forest, and grease from our pork, 
made pitch for the edges, making the bark all as tight as 
before, after which she is soon upon the water, reloaded once 
again, and then away over these ever moving waters, skipping 
quickly o'er the pools, on through their many winding channels, 
by their rough granite walls, hugging close up to, and rubbing 
by many of their noble old sentinels as on we go, slowly at 



2S0 The Aroostook Woods. 

times, but steadily on over the now never quiet but always 
murmuring river, for new scenes and fresh adventures. 

At last we come in sight of the falls, which now are beau- 
tiful. The white waters come dashing over the rocky walls 
above, tumbling, hissing, whirling around the great boulders 
and huge old granite giants, that stand quiet and unmoved in 
the midst of all this turmoil, as the waters leap out and past 
them, and go crowding and tumbling down to the bottom 
pools below, and here forming little floating islands of beau- 
tiful white foam, white as the purest snow, and which the 
merry breezes so love to sport with, for as they go chasing 
by it they catch upon their wings many flakes of oddest 
shapes, large and small, carrying the little ones a piece with 
them, which soon drift away in the air like white millers on 
the wing. Dropping the larger ones, which go sailing down, 
gaily dancing at the first, over the troubled waters, when 
reaching the calm, smooth surface, make a few waltzing 
motions and go smoothly down, to disappear from view. 

After having lunch at the falls, and a restful smoke while 
watching the merry tumbles of the waters on their way down 
to the pools below, and now and then seeing many a trout 
jumping high up, only to fall back again, and see a few suc- 
ceeding, for they stem up some of the weaker currents, get- 
ting up one step at a time, and are resting there beneath some 
friendly rock ; we begin to make ready for the carry, and 
bundle and strap the cargo all in packs. 

The graceful little lady who has so bravely faced all the 
difficulties on her way, and laughed at the fitful ways of the 
winds and the waters, now lies quiet on the shore beneath the 
falls, quite subdued by their haughty manner, their many cease- 
less voices and this rough ascent. " Cheer up little lady, for 



> 




282 The Aroostook Woods. 

you are vet the acknowledged queen of the waters, even though 
\<>u must now be carried around their high and rocky ways. 
Even your captain, with his setting pole, is at last barred 
out." 

" Rather rough getting along up there, Cap." 

" Sure ! there is no need to tack up any more signs, forbid- 
ding trespass upon those waters, and as the big frog said to 
Paddy ' we better go round.' Nature's high stone w r alls, with 
her hose turned on in full force, we will pay due respect to." 

The captain swinging the birch over his head, bottom up, 
the carrying piece tied to the middle crossbar to have it bear 
nicely* upon his head and shoulders without chafing, he hold- 
ing, balancing and steadying it with his hands grasping the 
side rails, pushes on ahead followed by the crew with a back 
load and the rifles. 

Half way over we stumble in among a covey of "Aroostook's 
line forestinal (?) roosters and pullets," and we are very will- 
ing to stop for a rest and a part of the birds. Returning, 
and another trip over, well loaded, completes the carry. We 
are now upon the shore of a handsome little lake. Such a 
pretty, round sheet of water, with well wooded shores, we feel 
we must make a flying trip around a portion of its border. So 
before loading up again we take the canoe, now so light and 
buoyant, and speed swiftly across to the opposite shore, and 
on beside it. At the mouth of a still running brook we see a 
mammoth beaver house, now uninhabited, the signs about it 
showing plain what had become of the beavers, or a part of 
them, as the trappers had left their hunting axe, which we 
found partly imbedded in the ground, thickly coated with rust. 
A number of very old cedar trees that had fallen across the 
brook, long, long since, told us by their much worn down 



The Captain and Crew. 283 

surfaces and old scratches, that this had been a roadway for 
the beaver and the otter for years. The mink and muskrat 
both visited here, or lived near, as remnants of the minks' food 
were seen upon the trunks of the fallen trees, and the mus- 
quash had eaten his lily roots upon the drift and left his fresh 
water clam shells in little heaps upon the shore. 

Walking up the brook a few steps, a caribou trail crossed 
it here ; a well trodden path upon each side, so much and so 
long used it was trodden down in the soft soil much below 
the mossy surface surrounding it. Coming to the brook they 
had evidently jumped it, each one in crossing, which is un- 
usual for them if walking quietly, and the reason for which, 
was, they disliked to get their feet upon or between the many 
very old and slippery logs which were deeply imbedded in the 
soil upon its banks, but plainly showing, lying thickly and 
crossed in many ways in the bottom of the brook. Leaving 
this very quiet place, for such a gamey looking one, we con- 
tinue on around and return to Lily Lake carry, and our baggage 
upon the shore. 

This is the river drivers' camping ground, and one end of 
the carry, where we find all our kit as we left it, -undisturbed 
by the bears or mink ; and this being a pleasant situation we 
concluded to camp here for the night. 

"Well, Cap, this is jolly." 

"What's jolly?" 

" Oh, these nice camping grounds we find so often ; this in 
particular. The pretty lake view, and all ; altogether it is 
really picturesque." 

"Sho!" 

"Clean, dry, grassy, gently sloping to the lake." 

"Well, whose fault is it?" 



2S4 The Aroostook Woods. 

" Now, Cap, that's derogatory ; you should be truly thank- 
ful to marm nature. 

"Yes; and the river drivers, who haven't left us a stick of 
hard wood standing, for the broiling of our birds." 

Next morning, contrary to our usual custom, we sleep very 
late. The day before was a long one for us and a little hard 
on the muscle, and the sun on this morning was up before us, 
but did not get the chance to see our faces while in bed, as it 
arose behind us, our tent facing the west. 

"Which accounts for sleeping late," says the captain. 

"And, hist ! what's that?" said he, sitting up in his buffalo 
bag. 

"Well, if this isn't funny." 

"What?" 

"Look!" 

Boys, you that may seldom see a grouse alive, except on 
the wing, w r e w r on't get roily if you doubt this, though it is a 
true bill. We had pitched the tent close to the partly con- 
sumed back logs left by the river drivers, in front of which 
was their large bed of ashes, and here had made a small fire 
to cook our supper. It being a mild night we did not need 
more fire and slept without its pleasant company. Every 
spark had gone out early in the night, yet the ashes that 
morning were warm (from the morning sun,) and there, be- 
tween the logs and ourselves, three feet from our toes, was a 
partridge dusting in the warm ashes. When the captain sat 
up she w T as as much surprised as he, but merely took a few 
steps to one side, stopped and shook a cloud of the dust from 
out her feathers on the air. Then as we laughed a little, she 
took the hint that she had acted ludicrous, looked a bit angry, 
elevated her slight crest and neck feathers, and with a "squit, 



The Captain and Crew. 2S5 

squit, squit," walked on around, close behind the blackened 
back logs. When her head and neck came in view at the 
other end of the fire place, she stopped with one eye on the 
captain, who was holding his long rifle muzzle nearer her 
head than ever before pointed at a bird. She looked so clever 
and innocently inquisitive that the rifle was lowered, when 
she, with the slowest, precise, even, dainty steps, with one 
bright eye ever on us, walked out of our sight among the 
hazel bushes and small evergreen trees behind the tent. 

After a late breakfast, we are soon cu route for the upper 
lake. Paddling around the shore after leaving our camp 
ground, we soon find the thoroughfare between the two lakes, 
which being shoal and rapid, we again have recourse to the 
steel-pointed pole, and soon are at the head of the quick 
waters, and on the large lake which we have been several 
days heading for. 

And now bidding good-bye to the swift and frisky waters 
that have so often, in their jolly gambolings, racing, chasing, 
leaping down the grades, much opposed our progress, yet 
now forgiving all their merry pranks, we paddle away 
cheerily, directing the little lady as she again proudly raises 
up her head and dances over the little waves for the brook 
above. And soon the pretty group of islands, ever green and 
ever charming, burst in view before us ; all standing boldly 
out over the deep waters of the lake, and all so like each 
other, with the little wavelets sailing down between them, or 
dancing from shore to shore, from the one to the other ; all 
nearly circular in form ; all well wooded with evergreens that 
have not as yet been disfigured, and these elegant islands 
made to look a sad blot upon a clean sheet, by the carelessness 
of sportsmen or others, but stand intact, quietly waving over 
their rocky foundations. 



2S6 Tiik Aroostook Woods. 



Islands of beauty ! long may you be allowed to keep as 
green as now, and may you always escape the careless hands 
of those who may forget to extinguish every spark of their 
fire, and be left to wave in the breeze as prettily as you do 
to-day, in pleasing harmony with the little waves that lave 
your rocky shores and moisten your roots. 

Passing between, and by the islands, our worthy captain, by 
vote of the whole crew, unanimous, has just been promoted. 
This is for his able engineering over the lakes, through the 
rapids and whirlpools, by many a wicked rock and snag; and 
for his many indefatigable exertions, his quiet resignation 
and nontalkbackativeness (?) in regard to too much from the 
crew, and his many amiable qualities generally ; has been 
promoted to the Aery highest and most honorable position on 
board the birch-bark fleet, and is now the " Commodore." 
lie now suggests (merely to tickle the crew, we imagine) 
that as we are now upon the big waters, to try for a big fish. 
Accordingly we face about toward him, sitting in the bottom 
of the canoe, straighten out, and leaning back against the 
forward crossbar, light the brierwood, reach the troll line, 
and while he lifts us gaily along, we run out the line with the 
old fashioned spoon bait at the end, well sunk down in the 
water. This old decoy yet occasionally deceives a large fish, 
as we succeed in taking a beauty. But this one only do we 
try for at present, for as we are often saying, "give us the 
little fellows and we are better suited." 

On we go, and on beyond open out the blue waters of 33ig 
Fish Lake. Rightly named, for here, even at the present 
day, the fish are most numerous and of many kinds. Some 
of the trout family (togue) so large, we dare not name the 
weight. We dip together lively for the big brook, where if 



The Commodore and Crew. 2S7 

we dip a pail of water for our tea, it cannot be disputed that 
we are drinking from twenty-six different branches, and five 
pretty little lakes, and all within a half day's tramp. What 
spawning chances for the trout, and what a territory for game 
and fish. Here it will be a long day before artificial hatching 
will be talked of. And for the game, the forest here is suited 
well; all so gloriously wild, among the hills and between the 
many sweet waters. No tinkle of the cow bell here to warn 
them to get back, away from this, to far beyond the distant 
hills, and leave forever their cool, shady streams and choice 
feeding grounds. 

As we are well out upon the lake and can see the extent of 
it and the thickly-wooded levels and valleys, the mountains, 
hills and ridges, all so beautiful, so grand, we have ceased to 
ply the paddles, or dip but lightly, as the little lady drifts with 
the breeze, while we gaze enraptured upon this inspiriting 
scenery. - • 

Hark ! what strange sounds do we hear, that so very seldom 
reach the ears of mankind? It is repeated in a few moments, 
and the sounds come from over the hills, perhaps a mile or so 
away. 

"Commodore, that's no caribou !" 

" No, a moose ! listen ! " 

This is well worth the waiting to listen to, and is to us a 
crowning sensation. After a little, it is heard apparently upon 
the higher line of the ridge. 

"A cow moose calling ! " 

Sure enough, this time we hear her plainly. Here they 
roam in peace, undisturbed for the most of the year. Some 
few are taken still hunting; some by calling them to you, 
imitating their own calling to each other, by making nearly 



2SS The Aroostook Woods. 



the same sounds through a birch-bark horn made for the 
purpose. 

But in the months of February and March, with four feet 
or more of snow upon the ground, with then the rain, and 
after a still, cold night, forming the crust upon the top of the 
snow, then appears the Indian upon his snow shoes, and he 
can soon run one down, or even walk them down, at times. 
He having the good travelling, his snow-shoe bows just 
cracking the crust, which settles an inch or so, keeping him 
from slipping about or losing his balance, while he travels on 
with springy steps untiringly, and with every advantage of 
the game, which being so heavy, and with hurried trot at 
the first, sinks to the bottom of the snow, soon tiring out 
completely, and at the last, turning in its tracks, awaits his 
coming. In this cruel, wolfish way; they are thinned out the 
most. The white hunter occasionally takes a hand at this, 
but not for the hides only, as often does the Indian. The 
Indian claims a free and roving right to what number he 
likes, taken when, where, and how he pleases. 

At the time for calling, in September and October, on a 
quiet, moonlight evening, with his good sized, birch-bark 
horn, the Indian in his canoe seeks the locality where he 
knows they wander. Now, placing the horn to his mouth, 
pointing it in a likely direction, makes the sound very similar 
to the cow moose calling. If a moose hears this he is sure to 
visit the locality sooner or later, and he can on a still evening 
hear it for miles. He locates the sound to a nicety, and if 
handy, is quick to show up to view, or is heard tramping 
about the vicinity. 

After calling a moose, if in your canoe, get a position 
where you may have a nice shot over the clear space which 



The Commodore and Crew. 2S9 

you have chosen, and be concealed from his view ; also to 
have the wind from him toward you when he comes. If 
an old monarch, and well deceived by your pretty good 
imitations, sees nor smells you, he is likely to charge right up 
to the opening, smashing the sticks as he comes, appear in 
sight before you, and stop again to listen, as he has been 
doing frequently during the intervals of your calling. But 
if a little suspicious, he may approach slowly, watching, 
listening, stopping often. At such a time, a strange taint in 
the air, coming to his keen sense of smell, will cause him to 
disappear entirely. Again, should you hear him handy by, 
and he seems not inclined to show himself, dip some water, 
hold it shoulder high, and allow it to stream back again 
slowly ; usually, upon hearing this, he no longer hesitates, 
but steps boldly out to view. Too much calling overdoes 
the thing, and too much shooting will often madden him, 
when, if life enough left and can locate you, he may try to be 
revenged. One or two well-directed shots, and he jumps a 
little away from you, and if let alone, and is not directly 
followed up, will likely be found lying down in the first thick 
chance. Give him quite a little time, and when you do 
approach, have the wind from him always ; go slowly, look 
keenly, and step as softly as a cat, for even then, if not dead 
or fatally wounded, chances are he may see you first. 

Well, we have been idly drifting, off and on, and slowly 
dipping ahead, talking moose, watching the shores, gazing 
upon the enchanting hills, when perhaps we ought to have 
been hurrying forward to our camping. 

" Commodore, what is your time?" 

"Very nice time, indeed, thank you. I am enjoying this 
very much ; how different from the rushing, rocky stream." 



290 The Aroostook Woods. 

"Which pleases you most, Commodore?" 

"Both; and we need not hurry, for this, like those swift, 
white waters behind, we are enjoying, and both will always 
be in memory with the outing." 

So you may drift, little lady, all about at your sweet will ; 
there are no rocks here to harm you while we enjoy another 
bright, sunshiny streak in our outing we would not miss. 

For we can hurry when 'tis windy ; 

Build a camp fire when it's cold ; 
But if pleasant, quiet, sunny, 

Sure our time is never old. 

The day is indeed superb, and the sun is hardly to the 
south-west point, and our tenting for this pleasant night can 
soon be accomplished, after which we will, on following 
days, be adding to its comforts and convenience. 

On the old camp ground again. Here are the blazed trees 
we spotted years ago, now grown so large that the marks 
have nearly disappeared ; they are healed-up scars, the edges 
have grown together almost. And as we pick a lump of 
gum from off them, we are again reminded that the com- 
panion who blazed the line has ceased to accompany us on 
our pleasure trips. We remark, as often before, would he 
had been spared to be here to-day, with happy laugh and 
constant cheerfulness, as of old. And yet, what is so often 
said, in his case must be surely true, "what is our loss is 
his gain." For he, too, is on shore, from off all turbulent 
\vaters,"and has long been camping upon the ever bright and 
lovely shores of the heavenly lakes, beside the ever green, 
ever delightful forest, in the midst of the happiest hunting 
grounds. 

We select our camping place with care, this time, choosing 



The Commodore and Crew. 291 

an oval, dry spot quite near the lake, among the evergreens. 

For here, we now decide to stay 
About the lake where breezes play ; 

Oft on the hills to while away 
Many an hour and autumn day. 






Isn't that so, Commodore?" 

" Yea, yea, yea, yea ! " 

To look out upon the water is pleasant, especially when 
sheltered from the winds. After the tent is raised, a small 
channel is made close to it to turn off all water if a heavy 
rain, insuring us 'a dry bed. Rock maples are cut for our 
fire and its backing, or back logs ; these are piled three high 
and staked behind. As the winds will be breezing in mostly 
from one direction, we oppose them greatly by a barricade of 
logs and a row of small, cut and sharpened evergeens, 
pushed down beside them. This is a help to the evergreen 
chimney just behind the back logs. Also, with others growing 
near, mostly hides our white canvas from the curious neigh- 
bors, the caribou, yet whom we will be pleased to see calling 
upon us, if on their journeyings they pass in this vicinity. A 
suitable log is cut and laid lengthwise, with one already lying 
upon the shore, upon which two the canoe is placed crosswise, 
bottom up, thus being on a good bearing to keep its proper 
shape, and always to be found dry upon the inside on the 
frosty mornings. The sun, reminding us by its waning light 
that soon it will bid us another good evening, the Commodore 
proceeds to collect the fir boughs for our bed, and the crew 
hustles around for something for supper. We find all nicely 
arranged by the Commodore, for the fire, in front of the back 
logs ; two maple hand junks, for andirons, are placed well out 



292 The Aroostook Woods. 

to right and left in front of the back logs, upon which rest 
two maple fore sticks of uniform size, giving a level rest for 
half a dozen cooking utensils at a time, if we wish. Beneath 
these fore sticks he has placed small, light wood, with birch 
bark, to which we touch a match, and immediately a cheerful 
fire is burning, lighting up the evergreens again for the 
evening, just as the sun is leaving them for the day. 

Our trout are dressed and lying upon a clean split beneath 
an evergreen on our left. Our pork is freshening in the pan 
which is resting upon the foresticks beside the black tea pail, 
while we occasionally lightly feed the fire beneath from the 
Commodore's motley pile of wood upon our right. We see he 
has saved the larger limbs, has cut them short and left them 
handy for early coals. A snug lot of hard wood of all sizes, 
also to be placed as needed upon the hand junks, and which 
makes the jolly lasting fire. And in his large pile, so varied 
and so quickly gathered together, we notice slabs of bright 
spruce from a tree lately blown over, broken almost off and 
rived up just right for us by the winds, and its pleasant per- 
fume greets us as we pass by it. Pine knots and bark, hem- 
lock and yellow birch bark in large, thick flakes, to be broken 
as needed ; dry spruce limbs, without their ends; no scraggs, 
nor blazing boughs to rush a roaring, frightful blaze upward, 
burning and browning the pretty evergreens uselessly, and 
with the sparks dropping upon the canvass, or smoking out 
the cook and causing him to misquote in his agony. But in- 
stead, and as we have said, in order to always please the cook, 
we will place upon the hand junks, as needed, the two sticks 
of hard wood, in front of good sized back logs, and from time 
to time feed underneath from the pile promiscuous, as it is this 
that gives the clean, nice fire, 



The Commodore and Crew. 293 

Our back logs at the first are more particularly for the 
chimney back to keep away the wind from the fire, and reflect 
the heat at night back upon our feet ; later on, some cold, 
rainy night when they are then only well dried, they will be 
rolled in and burned, giving a royal good fire until morning. 

A clean, clear fire to cook by, or sit down to and enjoy is 
well appreciated and a saving of time. The lazy way is 
usually a huge armful of cedar branches thrown at random in 
a heap, then set off with a sheet of white birch bark, like a 
bonfire after election. 

The Indian says, "Some white man he make big fire, 
strange ; first smoke kill him, then fore mornin froze to 
death," while he (the Indian,) "always make littleum fire, 
lay close by, keep warm, have comfort." 

The tea has been long enough steeping upon the coals, the 
trout are browned, yet juicy inside, the pig pork just crisp. 
Oh, not too crispy crisp, just right. The Commodore has 
placed some birch bark upon the canoe bottom, to keep it 
from blistering, as tonight it is our table ; just the right height 
and upon which we place the pan of smoking hot trout and 
the tea pail. Beside the little lady, one upon each side, he 
has arranged the camp stools, and is now raking out his favor- 
ite hard wood coals, upon which he places the wire broiler 
filled with bread, which is wonderful quick to take a nice 
light brown. The tin pail of butter, cool from the spring, is 
already beside us (and which, by the w r ay, is not quite as heavy 
as at our first camping) from which the toast is buttered and 
laid upon the smoking trout. 

" Put on the cover." 

"Correct." 

" Well, pard, is supper all ready?" 



294 The Aroostook Woods. 

"Sure ! Oh ! bring the previous." 

" The what, Commodore?" 

"Two raw onions; they are an excellent appetizer, and 
good for a cold." 

"Ah, Commodore, certainly; your elegant toast, now hot 
and flakey, no doubt has the flavor when it so pleasantly 
greets the olfactory sense and — Oh, certainly, if you please." 

By moonlight and firelight, with the lantern suspended from 
a tree lighting up our table, we proceed to discuss the toast, 
trout and tea, enlivened by a cheery serenade from our par- 
ticular friends, the loons. Our friends, always, wherever we 
are ; we never harm them, for we much appreciate and love 
their company. 

Our first morning at the home camp has a dubious look as 
to a continuation of the fine weather. The sun rises and bids 
us good morning as usual, but soon hides his face behind the 
clouds. 

"Well, Mr. Crew, this don't look like an elegant day to go 
for a haunch of venison, it is going to rain." 

"All right, Commodore ; we can always enjoy it, you know, 
if it does not last too long ; can busy ourselves around the 
camp, have a nice fire, cut wood and keep it burning to dry 
ourselves by ; gather a good pile of pine bark from along 
shore, and putter around generally. v 

" Sure ; but what for dinner? " 

"Partridge stew on rainy days." 

"Where's the big fish? I thought we were to have it 
roasted ? " 

" We can broil it if you wish, as it's split, dried, and now 
about smoked, hanging in the trees near the back logs." 

"Exactly! hot biscuits ? " 



The Commodore and Crew. 



295 



"Certain, sure; we've the little tin baker, and plenty of 
Horsef orcl's." 

u Say, Mr. Crew, this big fish is actually fat, and a thick 
one." 

" Course it is ; no use to dry a thin, poor fish; a dozen or 
.two for each of us to carry home, dried, and smoked a little 
to flavor them, will be correct." 

" Even so ; and this is the place to pick up these fat fellows, 
'single gent's-' I take it, should we catch any thin racers we 
will let them go again." 

It is just daybreak the next morning after the rain when we 
are awakened by the gabble of black ducks along the shore 
immediately in front of the tent. They have espied our white 
canvass among the trees, and the old mother gossip with her 
neck stretched out toward us, a little mistrustful of the appear- 
ance, and the faint smoke drifting up, is swimming about 
among them, gabbling away, no doubt telling them the big- 
gest kind of duck lies about hunters and of their horrid appe- 
tites for black ducks, young ones particularly, altogether 
unaware that the Commodore was wide awake, listening, with 
his rifle resting over the back logs between the evergreens. 

One young fellow, becoming tired of her long, gibble gabble 
turns his attention to an early stirring minnow that pops up 
after a half drowned insect which he gets, and is down again 
much too quick for ducky, who sits gazing long upon the tiny 
ripple left upon the surface, without a smile. 

Another stands upon his head, apparently, for a moment, 
and is feeding off the bottom ; then as he rights up again upon 
the surface, wags his tail and shakes his head,, with his eye 
washed clean and keen for business, makes quickly and noise- 
lessly to shore and gobbles a poor little tired frog that had 



296 The Aroostook Woods, 



peep, peep, peeped ! all through the rainy night, and gone to 
sleep at last upon a rock, right in face of the enemy. This 
being most too big a bite to swallow easily, and very choice 
food beside, another ducky swims him down, grabs a leg of 
the frog, and although hard pressed by another still, these two 
succeed, after much pulling and shaking, flapping of wings 
and mumbling duck growls, to divide poor froggy, each 
swallowing quickly, the rightful owner for once securing the 
larger share. 

Old mother quacker, since her grown up family have all 
jturned about for something of more interest, and are paying 
no attention whatever to her tiresome prattle, at last mistrusts 
they think her an old chestnut. But like many an old duck 
before her time, she cannot stop when wound up early in the 
morning, and gabbles off another glib story, laughs at it herself 
only, loud and coarsely, then raising herself up as high as 
possible, treads water with her big feet, and flaps her wings 
directly at the Commodore, intending to fly the next instant. 
But, alas ! for madame ducky, it was her very last flap and 
quack ; the Commodore had only been waiting for a little more 
daylight. 

After breakfast it looks as if it might rain again ; then in 
a short time it lightens up as if to clear away. It is one of 
those half-and-half mornings, when you declare it isn't going 
to rain, at the same time you don't wish to lay a heavy wager 
against it, but you really do want to go fishing; and as it 
soon looks more favorable, the Commodore accepts an invite 
from the crew, when we turn over the canoe and place it 
upon the water. Taking our dinners and the troll line, fly 
rod and landing net, we paddle out from shore and find just 
a little bit of a breeze lightly sweeping about to all points of 



The Commodore and Crew. 297 

the compass, as if quite undecided as yet which way to wing 
its new flight thus early in the day. The little lady is in 
elegant shape this morning, even after the storm, and feels so 
light and buoyant, gay and airy, that whilst we are each one 
arranging our seductives for the trout, she goes gliding about 
with each puff of the breeze, light as a feather off a duck. 

" She feels light and free, when relieved of her bundles and 
budgets, and is taking on airs," remarks the Commodore. 

Yet he smiles to see her skip about in her freedom, and we 
know he loves his bonny boat, as she dances down the wind 
a little way, when meeting a whiffle from another quarter, as 
it is flyiug about as lightly as herself ; she waltzes up the 
other way again, skipping over the little wavelets, nodding her 
head to them, to right and left, like a born coquette upon the 
promenade. When having our tackle all arranged, the Com- 
modore lays aside his lancewood, picks up the paddle, when 
immediately the little lady bows lightly, obeys gracefully and 
cheerfully, walking straight forward, with her usual dignity, 
over the pathway her master points out. And now away she 
flies over the waters, down the wind, like a bird skimming 
its surface o'er ; for the breezes, no longer undecided, are 
accompanying us down the lake. 

Zephyrus hurries on behind, 

Blows stronger and is pushing us, 

When soon the waves, in manner kind, 
Gallantly are lifting us. 

So, with the jolly waves she loves so well, bravely assisting 
the little lady, each helping her up, and upon its crest, there 
steadying, then handing her safely down to the next, which 
gallantly receives her and passes her on, we are soon far 
down the lake, and in smooth water at the mouth of a 



29S The Aroostook Woods. 

"bonny brook, which brings down the clear waters from the 
springs above, to cool the pool at its mouth. Here the trout 
constantly keep visiting, and lie upon its sand and gravelly 
bottom, with an eye up toward the surface for their choice 
flies, and are always ready to dart in among the schools of 
small, silvery chub, which is the greater part of their food. 

Keeping a little away from the pool (always remembering 
an old saying, " if you want a good trout, do not throw your 
bait directly at him,") down by we paddle, trolling the 
spoon bait some fifty yards or more behind, and as this passes 
by the outer edge of the pool, one or two light twitches are 
given it, and we feel some small fish fast upon the hooks. 
The line is drawn in lively, hand over hand, and we have 
him ; but as he is too small a trout to be taken from such 
waters, he is carefully taken from the hooks and allowed his 
liberty, when he darts under the birch, showing his thanks by 
lively wriggles for the bottom. We turn about, pay put the 
line again, trolling over near the same ground with line well 
run out behind. Coming near the edge of the pool again, the 
Commodore sweeps away, out from it a piece, then back, and 
after passing, heading on again the same, bringing the spoon 
bait more upon water we did not disturb. And now we feel 
a tug upon the line that sends a thrill over us, and means 
"big fish!" The first twitch not heavy; the next quite a 
yank ; but the third, a tug and a pull, for all he is worth. 
All this taking up the time only of slowly counting one, two, 
three. 

" Isn't he telegraphing lively? " asks the Commodore. 

"Yes ; says he shall try lines and titles." 

Then, with quick darts from right to left, rolls over and 
over, comes to the surface, showing his white breast as he 



The Commodore and Crew. 299 

swims upon his side, turns again, and goes for the bottom, 
but does not get there ; sulks, and hangs back, keeping low 
down, yet has to come right along. Telegraphing his every 
movement so direct from his mouth to your hand (and which 
he has been doing since giving the spoon bait the first angry 
slap of his tail upon swimming quickly up to it, and not just 
liking its appearance, or being unacquainted with the silver 
bug, turning away, then back to chase and eye it again, to his 
finally snapping it up and landing in the birch) . And now 
he soon starts up again from below to the surface, jumping 
clean and clear out from the water, showing now his large 
size and fine shape ; shakes his head in the air, jingling the 
silver spoon against the brass swivel, which we take it he 
means, "Chestnut!" And as he drops in again with a big 
splash, pretty well played, we answer, "Halter broke," and 
draw him in, hand over hand ; steadily, and faster he comes ; 
now we have him well under weigh. He opens his mouth, 
and then we hurry him the faster, filling him with water, 
which helps much toward his docility as he reaches the canoe 
and is run directly in the landing net, rooting his nose hard 
against its bottom, wildly flopping his tail back and forth as 
he is kept moving right along, up in the air and down in the 
canoe, without any slack line or any chance to turn, since he 
cried "chestnut." A few more are taken in this manner, and 
the troll is laid aside. The Commodore, with the flies, now 
brings the trout alongside to the net so fast, and such fine 
ones, that we soon have trout to eat, to dry, and to spare, and 
are willing, to the pool, to say good-bye. 

We now go skimming away from the pool, down around 
the shore, feasting our eyes upon all of interest, breathing in 
long draughts of the fragrant air. Keeping just a little way 



300 The Aroostook Woods. 

from shore, over the now smaller waves, which are once 
more flashing in the broad, open sunlight that is shining over 
the waters and the well-wooded and variegated hills, warming 
the moistened evergreens, from which a sweet perfume arises, 
and is wafted over the waters by the breeze. The squirrels 
are chasing along the shores, happy to have another sunny 
morning. The blue jay — the beautiful scamp — is screaming 
as usual at sight of us, notifying the ducks and every deer 
within hearing to get away out of sight, for the enemy is 
abroad, and on the war path. 

"You are a very pretty bird; very, indeed; we cannot 
help admiring your beautiful blue dress and elevated crest, 
but never shall injure our voice singing your praises, and 
remember, with much satisfaction, of catching a number of 
you robbers in our wooden sable traps." 

And the loon, with his jolly call, "Ah — oo — o — hoo ! " 
Here in line are five of them ; how cheerfully they greet yon, 
and always at first s'ght, without ceremony. And often in 
the middle of the night, as the wind fans your fire to a 
blaze again, they will, like the watchman of the night, make 
known the fact that they are awake and are singing off the 
hours. We call them our "Ethiopian serenaders," in full 
evening dress, with their black coats and white waistcoats. 
We never shoot them for the fun of it, nor to exhibit superior 
marksmanship, for they belong to this elegant panorama, and 
are a beauty here ; taking them away from the middle of the 
picture, it loses one of its prettiest parts. One wishing a 
specimen for the taxidermist may be excused, but they are not 
fit to eat, and were never given to us for that purpose, as the 

ducks, partridge, and deer family. And his Oh — ah hoo ! 

is not to us a melancholy strain. We have heard one say, 



The Commodore and Crew. 301 

"What discordant sounds." We do not agree; on the 
contrary, it harmonizes here, and upon all the lakes, most 
splendidly. Only listen to the echoes of the loon's happy 
laugh, and his long note of call to his mate, and the far-away 
answer. Hear it all echoed and repeated, again and again, 
far back of the mountain beneath which you are camping. 
'Tis right royal music in the evening, over the calm waters, 
in this grand old " forestinal amphitheatre" ( ?). 

Our eagle is again sitting on the tallest pine, watching over 
all, and seems the fitting king, as he is, of all the feathered 
family living upon the shores, or that fly over these waters. 
To shoot him down in all his majestic pride and power, that 
fits him well, and he is worthy of, would seem to be an act of 
thoughtlessness ; a deed committed by one wholly devoid of 
appreciation for what is beautiful to see on an outing, and we 
should pity the one having so little appreciation for a picture, 
so much more perfect with such living objects, all of interest 
and beauty. Shoot the eagles that each year nest at a lake, 
and chances are, five to one, that you will not see another there 
for years. They cannot do any harm here, except to take a 
few fish, which they should be welcome to when they are so 
plenty, more especially as they have to be satisfied with the 
roach mostly (the trout roosting too low generally;) and ours 
never carry off any large sized babies. 

Far down the lake, by a small brook, we lay the canoe on 
shore and step out to have our luncheon. Lunch — eon. How 
cheery and welcome sounds the long drawn call, coming to 
the boys over the water from the companion detailed to 
make the coffee and cook the trout beside some little brook. 
Then leave off switching the stream, " reel up," put those last 
caught trout in the basket, put the grass over them again, 



302 The Aroostook Woods. 

down cover, push in the ping, untie and cast off from the 
bushes, dip and dip together, lively, for to get there before 
they are too cold to be nice. 

The Commodore is soon cutting his favorite broiling wood, 
small maple or birch, whilst the crew starts a fire beside the 
rocks near a good log for both seat and table, the Commodore 
having already faced of a level place for the dishes. The 
black tea kettle is in its usual place ; not that we need hurry 
up the tea as yet, but the black kettle hanging over the blaze, 
upon its forked stick, adds a prominent part to the scene and 
stirs up the enthusiastic enthusiasm of the crew, as he sits 
dressing the trout upon the shore. Our new luncheon box is 
on the bank beside us, and by the way, we are as proud of 
this new acquisition as a young doctor of his first medicine 
case. We throw back the waterproof cover, as we are re- 
quested to hand the broiler, make the tea and set the table, 
and are pleased and surprised at the showing, as we had no 
hand in this, and supposed the Commodore had simply hinged 
on a cover, as a lunch box. But we see small tin boxes by 
the dozen, or less, all snug in their partitions ; one of butter, 
one of sugar, salt, pepper, tea ; in one a hunk of old fashioned 
mottled castile soap, a half cake of Welcome, towels, etc., 
while the other square, after removing a paper of biscuits, 
shows the broiler, two tin plates, two dippers, knives,- forks, etc. 

The worthy Commodore, who yet (secretly) prides himself 
much on his broiling, is having his usual good luck with the 
trout, is turning them once more flesh side down, and now 
gives them that last satisfied glance, and luncheon is ready. 
Sitting astride the log, facing each other, the luncheon box 
beside us, the tea pail within reach, our broiled trout before 
us, we find our appetite for them as fine as at the first. Fresh 



The Commodore and Crew. 305 

baked biscuits, thin slices of bacon, tea and broiled trout, and 
we wondered if they ever tasted so good to others. Not if 
they caught them at the market. 

After dinner we pack in and are quickly off again up the 
lake ; but first thing to do says the Commodore, " let us extin- 
guish the jire" and we leave it when sure, and not before. 
No smoke to be seen is not always a positive surety ; a most 
thorough wetting of the ground, and underneath a log as well 
as above ; for should a spark be left, the wind rises and fans 
it to a flame, and away it goes, high, wide and lively. In 
building a fire in the forest, we should use judgment as to a 
safe place. It is always nice to get to a brook, stream or lake, 
for usually we want water for our tea or coffee ; then it can be 
well wet down with our tea pail ; if without a pail, in five 
minutes time one can make a bark cache ; if no bark handy, 
we can use our hat ; but if we think our hat is too good to be 
used for this, we have made a mistake in going out camping ; 
should have stayed at home, are not true sportsmen, and are 
doubly sure we have no business upon this man's property. 
A fire left burning in an old stump will often last for days ; 
also in loose ground filled with fibrous roots, when the breeze 
assisting, it sets fire to all around, spreading out, and away, 
on its often fearful quick run, destroying thousands and tens 
of thousands of dollars in property, all burned and lost simply 
for the want of an honest, manly thought ; doing no one good, 
but the owner a cruel injury, which seems a poor recompense 
after trespassing upon his property. 

As the owners of the beautiful wild lands never have, and 
are kind enough yet, not to debar us from hunting in their 
forests, let us all be ever and always careful not to destroy, or 
be the means of destroying the lovely woodlands, for their 



304 The Aroostook Woods. 

sake and for the sake of so much elegant game that becomes 
bewildered, suffocates, drops and dies, and is roasted to a 
crisp in forest fires. 

"Idly drifting again little lady, while we are talking of 
forest fires are you ? " 

We now straighten up to lift the lady on her way, and we 
find her light and free, after the day's sunshine, for the least 
little dips keep her moving lively, and when we throw our 
strength upon the paddles, she gaily leaps away with such 
spirit, that the eagle fairly screams with delight. 

"While you are lightly dancing, little lady, o'er the waves, 
While so lightly blows the breezes in the sunny autumn days. 

Canoeing, at a time like this, is more than glorious ; Ave 
cannot tire of it in the pleasant weather, and it takes the 
coldest, rainy days and hard work, with any amount of poor 
luck, to crush down the enthusiasm at any time. Even then, 
as we have before remarked, give us a good night's sleep, and 
after a hearty breakfast, the hard time of the day before is all 
forgotten, and we are just as ready to push off again, trusting 
to chances as to wind and weather ; for with the strong though 
light paddles, springy and trusty, our sure to-go-off-rifles, a 
few of the necessary eatables from the camp, our muscle well 
hardened by exercise, keeping an eye out toward self preser- 
vation, using a little discretion at all times, enables us to go 
and come safely, without having to swim for it or go hungry. 
At this, the eagle pays no attention whatever, and looking 
back we are sure he is fast asleep at the very moment we are 
expecting to hear his loud screams of approbation. 

Leaving him sitting upon the highest branch of the old 
weather-beaten pine, his form clearly outlined by the blue 



The Commodore and Crew. 305 

sky, we clip along leisurely to camp. And it looks very 
inviting as we approach the home spot this afternoon, pretty 
well satisfied with our day's catch, and yet mindful of the 
pleasure enjoyed from seeing much that was beautiful, and 
many a bit of interest on the way. 

"Ahoy! the camp. Well, Mr. Crew, we have had an 
enjoyable day, and I take it you have been pleased, and are 
feeling gay? " 

"Well pleased, worthy Commodore, and always, mostly 
always, w T ell pleased with the chief of the squadron, and 
wondei'fully well satisfied with the crew. 

With the first peep of day in the east, the night's dark 
shadows begin to show ; lying beside each other upon the 
leaves, as we awake and lie quietly, listening to one of our 
little feathery friends, the wood robin (or wood thrush) and 
his oft-repeated "Chat! chat!" and his few, short, liquid 
notes of melody, continued from time to time, hints strongly 
of rain when he sings so much in the morning. Slowly 
comes the morning light ; the shadows begin to take some 
form, and we can make out a ripple on the lake, from 
between the trees. An early squirrel has left his warm nest, 
skipped by our feet, and is now in the top of the spruce 
beside the tent, biting off and pelting us with the bright 
cones. He flips them over his head without regard to where 
they fall, knowing his bright eyes can find them all after- 
ward ; one thumping on the back log, glances in, and 
telegraphs the Commodore ; another drops upon the tent, 
bouncing off, and striking so near his head, outside the tent 
upon the leaves, that he is now wide awake for the first time, 
since he lighted his cigar, and wiped the supper dishes. The 
noisy blue jay flies about this morning without his usual 



306 The Aroostook Woods. 

squawk, and all the little friendly birds, that pick the crumbs 
we throw them, are quiet, but the wood robin, while he in 
the darkest thicket over the lower land, is ever piping forth, 
happier than all in the dark, cloudy morning. Down upon 
the tent comes now the rain drops ; the squirrel is heard 
scratching down the spruce and scurrying through the leaves, 
behind the tent, and away to his nest ; while we turn out, 
start up the fire, and welcome the new day, rain or shine. 

"Another rainy day, Commodore." 

"All right; let's make it rather enjoyable than otherwise."" 

Breakfast over, we cut some forked stakes and straight 
spruce poles, get out the small shelter tent, and very quickly 
we have near the shore a workshop, kitchen, and dining hall. 
Sitting in this, looking out over the lake, a cosy little Indian 
fire in front, we prepare some large fish for smoking, by 
putting in the splits, for spreaders, and doing other small 
jobs to add to our comfort and enjoyment. The rain is just 
nothing to disturb us in the least ; not at all steady nor 
threatening, it lights up frequently, and begins to look very 
promising toward noon. After dinner is over and all made 
tidy again, sitting in the dining tent, enjoying our smoke, the 
sun peeps out, the clouds roll away, and once more lake and 
hillside beams forth in broadest smiles. The lake is so 
beautiful, we are irresistibly drawn out upon it again, and 
promise ourselves a short trip before evening, on another 
exploring expedition. 

The Commodore, now sitting upon the shore, is admiring 
a pretty scene before him, "while it lasts," he says, for when 
the breeze increases it will all be changed to waves and 
swells. Parts of the lake are as smooth as glass ; for an hour 
it has been almost wholly unruffled. Just now, "Zephyrus" 



The Commodore and Crew. 307 

is softly breathing over the forest, yet so gently, you barely 
see the movement of the tree tops. Near the shore it is 
perfectly calm, and all a mirror for the rocks and trees. But 
out a piece, where the zephyrs play down from over the trees, 
and first kiss the water, there the pretty change commences. 
Down they go on many light wings, and lightly sweep the 
water for a short way, then rise a little above, leaving it 
smooth as they are above it, soon to dip and rise again ; and 
now they are joined with more breezes from on behind, and 
many widen out and dip down together ; some catching on, 
keep to the water far down the lake ; others to the right and 
left, desert the main current, and rise and fall, and following 
after, dip and skip a little way and end, leaving behind, in 
many spots, tiny, rippling waves that are sparkling in the 
sun, and it strongly reminds us of the very last hour of the 
very last of the thinnest, honeycombed sheets of ice remaining 
of the long winter's accumulation, floating and dissolving in 
the warm sunshine, at midday, in spring. But now we see 
the great mirrors, all changing, in the lightest of breezes, as 
the many currents of air sweep again over them, ruffling long, 
narrow, and then widened-out stretches, flashing and changing, 
and we compare them to the northern lights. Finally, more 
new wings are added, all join in the gliding waltz ; soon 
all is again a ripple and a sparkle, then the little wavelets, 
then the waves. And upon the waves, as they lightly lap the 
shore again, the "lady" is now placed, and we are off. 

Troll, and rly, and bait rod, 

Rifles, axe, and dipper; 
Landing net and brierwood, 

Knife, matches, and tobacco. 

And all aboard for "Bonny Brook." Out again and over 



30S The Aroostook Woods. 



the waves, so wide awake ; so wild and free at times ; so 
calmly and peacefully sleeping at others, we pass again and 
again, always feeling the most agreeable sensations when 
canoeing, and as happy as the swallow skimming along the 
surface before us. And are we not like him, almost ever on 
the wing, as free as the breeze, to fly away over the waters, 
wherever fancy calls. 

The eagles, for to-day we see two of them, are now wide 
awake, but merely look grandly down on us as we pass them 
by, and as they are not watching their fishing chance, we turn 
around, facing the Commodore, and run out the troll line. 
Trolling in those days was quite in order, and many large 
fish were taken in this manner. The Commodore, with his 
usual good judgment, guides the lady just right, by the brook, 
and as the spoon is passing through the coolest water, spin- 
ning around, it is seized by a large fish, and we feel him 
hooked solid. The scientific way is fly fishing, and elegant 
sport it is ; yet there is some excitement in playing a large 
fish on the troll. 

"I say, Commodore, talk about your fly fishing; here is 
some fun for you now ; just feel of the line a moment, and 
note his manoeuvres." 

And the fish tugs to right and left, goes to the bottom to 
find a snag to rub his nose against, rises, breaks water, and 
jumps out, then in again, and tries to turn back and tw T ist off 
the hooks, but getting no slack line to do so, soon shows 
himself alongside, and does not like the look of us; darts, to 
take under the canoe, but a quick twist of the wrist dips the 
ring of the net over his nose, and the Commodore, dropping 
his paddle, takes both his hands to lift this big fellow on 
board. Then, with a firm hold of his neck and gills, using 



The Commodore and Crew. 309 

his knees to good purpose, this time, reaches his knife, 
performs a slight operation, when the fish is quiet, and his 
brave fight is over. 

" What'll he weigh, Commodore?" 

"We haven't the scales." 

" Sho ! you can tell within a half pound." 

" Never mind, they won't believe it." 

We disentangle the hooks from the net, take a few more 
with bait and fly, cover them with moss from the mouth of 
the stream, and slip away for camp at our best, even, long 
stroke, to get some supper. 

Our rifles, one aft and one forward, are leaning with 
muzzle out, each way, in the best positions for safety. 

" By the way, Commodore." 

" Say it." 

" What's your way of getting sight? " 

"Look for it, of course." 

"Exactly ; but I would like to know how you catch such a 
quick sight in shooting? " 

" Run it down." 

"Do you always, at your first sight, fire?" 

"Usually, yes; and shall I explain?" 

"Well, that's just it ; if you please." 

"Well, you see, in the first place, I generally carry my 
rifle in case of an emergency." 

"I see." 

"Which means that if anything emerges out in plain, open 
sight, as big as a horse, and I aren't afraid of it." 

"Who are you hinting at? " 

"Remaining perfectly still, and looking quietly, innocent 
like, for instance, the same as the deaf and dumb caribou you 
missed the other day." 



310 The Aroostook Woods. 

" Cruel sarcasm ! what have I ever done to you? " 

"Giving me time to draw in a good, long, breath; then 
with tightly-compressed lips, after two heavy sighs, I am half 
ready." 

"Oh, shucks!" 

"Well, who's a doin' this shootin'?" 

"Fire away." 

"Now, with the elbow of my left arm, a hugger by prac- 
tice"— 

"Good ! too true. Ha ! ha ! " 

"Pressed hard upon my thumping heart, take a good, long 
aim, shut both eyes, yank hard upon the trigger, and, pro- 
vided the sun is on our back, and the wind is with us, the 
bullet always gets there, somewhere." 

Ahoy, the camp ! Here we are, just in time for supper, 
and with a splendid appetite. 

The next morning proving windy, as had been the night all 
through, the Commodore suggests another trip upon the high 
ridges. So w r e put up the luncheon, and this with the tin 
dippers, and the nearly alw r ays requisite tea pail, are snugly 
packed in the two bushel seamless bag. Then for fear of 
harm coming to the little lady, we remove her to rest more 
safe and easily, lying upon a knoll and a down spruce beneath 
the evergreens, with her nose just peeping out over the jolly 
running waves. Extinguish our fire, button snug the tent, 
pick up the rifles and hunting axe, w r hile the Commodore 
throws the lunch bag over his right shoulder, gathers up the 
mouth of it, raises the weight high up as possible, passes the 
strap (which is made fast to the left corner of the bottom) 
under his left arm up to the gathered together mouth in front 
of him, and fastens it there, by taking one round turn and one 



The Commodore and Crew. 311 

simple half hitch with the bite of the strap. Should he wish 
to drop it he finds no knots ; one twitch at the hanging end, 
and off it drops ; and always his hands and arms are free for 
his rifle. One can jump the brook, walk the boles of the old 
down trees, sit down or stand up, stop and pass on, but he 
has his lunch still, and with but little bother. We speak the 
second time of this easy way of carrying with us what we 
wish on a tramp, and of having with us, the one, or often two 
of these handiest of knapsacks to bring home our game, think- 
ing it may prove a useful hint to some younger campers. 

Over the brook and up beside it a long way and we rise 
upon a pretty level, grown up to white birches and small firs, 
which with the brook singing away merrily, hints so strongly 
of game, and grouse particularly, that we slow down to a 
creep along gait. And right we are, for soon close beside us 
we hear the "squit, squit" of a partridge, and up goes an old 
drummer, quickly followed by his mate, making a long flight, 
but we have marked them pretty well to a clump of spruce 
nearly on our way. 

Fresh tracks of a deer we see while passing on to get the 
birds, and hesitate about the propriety of shooting. But they 
sit just nice for a fine shot, with their necks stretched high, 
and "they must surely be fat," whispers the Commodore, and 
deer or no deer, hit or miss, he proposes to try for them. 
Each of us getting sight we count, one, two, three ! there is 
only one report ; the Commodore picks up the birds, folds each 
headless neck beneath a wing of each, smoothes them out ad- 
miringly, as usual, and lays them upon the moss, strips off a 
sheet of white birch bark, takes the fine, thin inner sheet from 
this again, which is a bright, pretty wrapping paper for us 
when on the hunt. He does them up in this as handy 
as if a retail tea merchant, ties them snug with a small and 



3i2 The Aroostook Woods. 

twisted hazel shoot, and drops them in his lunch bag, and on 
we tramp following the brook a little farther, then rise, first 
the foot hills, slowly wandering, ever peeping, always listen- 
ing as we go. Often stopping each beside a tree, to look the 
new showings over, knowing our chances are so much de- 
pending upon our seeing the game before it sees us. Up the 
ridge we climb, and stand upon the "horses back." And 
here the wind is blowing "Oh, so gaily O !" it is all open 
growth and nearly all of hard woods, pretty w T ell up in the 
air, and if 'twas a warmer day, in early autumn, and before 
the flies were gone, should expect at this time of day, with this 
breeze, to see, or jump a deer, that was here taking his siesta. 
Following along on the top of the ridge, sometimes close 
beside each other, then drifting apart a little, always within 
hearing of the usual signal (a low call of a bird) with the 
wind pretty good nearly all the way, we see many tracks as 
usual, some very freshly made as well as many that are old. 
At last finding we are now running well away from camp, 
and no water showing up so high, we turn and branch off 
down the ridge more toward the lake and tent. Near the foot 
of the ridge we step into some old lumber works, and soon the 
road over which the lumber was hauled. Taking out the 
compass, as the sun has been hidden often through the day, 
and is now behind the clouds, we find the road running favor- 
able, and passing on a piece see the welcome brook, when 
immediately one of us said " Luncheon." 

And down beside the welcome brook Ave again prepare it. 
Here, sheltered from the high wind, which is not too warm 
upon the ridges today, we build our very small fire, and find 
again it is cosy to have a cup of tea and a jolly little fire, 
which we make beside the brook, close to a mossy hummock. 

Sitting side by side upon the dry moss, our lunch spread 



The Commodore and Crew. 313 

out between us upon a sheet of birch bark, while waiting a 
moment to watch the small grains of heathenish production in 
the black kettle. The blaze rises from the centre of the small 
fire and is directly under the kettle. Soon the music starts, 
all around the circular wall of their dance hall ; low at the 
first, but ever increasing, and we soon see among them a 
slight agitation, then they rise up and are passing all about 
and joining for the furious dance. Now commence their wav- 
ing, waltzing motions, and quickly then the jolly dance 
begins. With all turning, whirling, sinking, rising, and 
leaping, and when the music is at its highest, the whole 
pandemonium becomes a perfect maelstrom, rising in the 
cloud of hot steam, and — our luncheon is ready. 

Extinguishing the fire, we are again ready for the slow, 
creeping, homeward step. The Commodore a little in ad- 
vance, as the road slightly rises and winds around the lower 
part of the higher land, stops quickly, drops upon his knee 
behind the trees, looks around and gives a slight upward mo- 
tion of his head, which electrifies the crew, and he is soon 
down beside him. Looking far ahead down slightly descend- 
ing ground, a young buck is quietly feeding and slowly walk- 
ing our way with the wind behind him. 

"No need to hurry." 

"Only lie low." 

In a moment he steps into the old road and is feeding, head 
down, toward us ; soon he sees a choice bite beside the road 
and turns half round exposing his shoulders clean to view ; 
each one is holding for him, each one steadying a rifle, on 
opposite sides of the same large tree, and one, two, three ! 
as usual but one report only, then four or five wild leaps down 
the road, with his tail hugged close down, and one last leap 
to one side, off the road and he is down. We sit still on a 



3*4 



The Aroostook Woods. 



small elevation and watch the locality for a few moments, 
then walk down to the spot and dress the game. 

The hide is taken off from the forward half down to the 
saddles ; these are then removed, wrapped and tied snug in the 
whole hide, ready for carrying home. The forward part is 
split down, the ribs and shoulders taken and wrapped nicely 
in thin bark, and find their way to the bottom of the lunch 
bag — when we are again en route, now unmindful of our 
talk, or noise, as we go crashing on our steady march, straight 
as we can for camp. 

The wind goes down with the sun as we arrive, and hang 
our venison up in the fir trees, in the coolest, shady, breezy 
spot, and quickly the quiet scene changes about the camp, to 
one very bright and cheery, as the fire is rekindled and blazes 
up brightly. And mixed in, to better help to a fine apprecia- 
tion of the picture, comes anticipation, a jolly good appetite, 
and soon the savory smell of a broiled supper. 

Once more the break of day is announced by the chattering 
squirrels, the "chat, chat," of our swamp robin, and the first 
little twitterings of our friendly small birds. We turn over 
and rise up at once, as we hear them all calling us, and look 
the situation over, as usual. W T e see first before us many split 
and dried trout hanging in the smoke, having already a nice 
golden brown. The black kettle with the fry pans, stew pail, 
pans, broiler, dippers, etc., etc., all hanging upon the stubs 
of branches in the trees ; our venison just beyond, and the little 
lady lying still at rest upon the shore, and all is very quiet, as 
we, as yet, have not even a breeze to wave the thin worn dish 
wipers pinned upon the branches. The lake is as calm as a 
sleeping babe, and close in shore upon it are two of our loons, 
swimming quietly by, leaving wide, wavy wakes behind them 
upon the smooth surface. 




AT THE POOL. 



316 The Aroostook Woods. 



THE SHOWERS AT THE POOL. 



THE tent is pitched beside the stream upon a mossy knoll, 
The bark canoe turned bottom up and resting on a bole ; 
The forest warblers cease their song, the squirrels hie away, 
The clouds entirely hide the sun, 'tis more like night than day. 

E'en the beechen leaves are still, the pool a mirror quite, 
When the pearly rain-drops make the dusky waters light ; 
Tinkling on the darkened mirror from the thick and murky air, 
Till a rainbow and the sunset gives a promise bright and fair. 

Oh, the morning ! it is charming, for the clouds drift far away, 
As the merry squirrels in the trees announce the coming day ; 
Their happy hearts are filled with joy, so gleeful every one, 
When just above the tallest trees beams forth the glorious sun. 

The birds fly to its friendly warmth with song of loving cheer, 
And o'er the hills and down the vale it shines upon the deer ; 
Soon every tree and bush and bud are smiling in its light, 
While all the forest life enjoy the rosy morning bright. 

The little wavelets down the pool fly gaily on before, 
As playful zephyrs hasten by and chase them to the shore ; 
While in the sparkling sunlit wave, oft leaping wholly out, 
Is seen the glistening beauty of the bonny speckled trout. 



The Commodore and Crew. 317 

Breakfast over, the Commodore sits upon the shore enjoy- 
ing the view, and his cigar. Everything made a little tidy 
about the camp, the crew picks out a small hardwood coal 
from the fire, tenderly, and laying it upon the top of the well 
loaded brierwood, carefully, soon joins him. 

Soon again we have the light zephyrs just touching the 
smooth surface in places, as in fitful puffs they flit away over 
it in many separate currents, so again we see the long lines 
of ripples sparkling in the sun, all through in many places and 
down alongside the wide mirrors. 

Now we hear the loons, frequently calling, away down the 
lake, very plainly when so far away, the sound coming so 
distinctly over the quiet waters. An answer is given to their 
calls near by us, and our two early risers, that we saw loom- 
ing up large and loony, just at light, come swimming back 
our way and are already much too close for their safety ; did the 
Commodore wish a specimen for the taxidermist ; but he 
prefers them as they are, and where they are. 

Sitting quiet upon the shore while they are diving about, 
under and out, after the small chub or minnows that swim in 
schools, he sees a number of the little fishes scoot straight 
toward him, out of, and over the water, three and four feet at 
a jump, and is somewhat astonished at this, but only for a 
moment, for immediately behind them just under the water, 
comes one of the loons swimming astonishingly swift and with 
a sweep much too fast for the fish ; for although they fairly 
fly out of the water, he succeeds in capturing one or more, and 
rises to the surface so near the Commodore, and so much 
astonished to see where he was, that he was under before we 
could say good morning to him ; and again he rises only 
twenty feet away from shore, seeming yet much confused, 



3 18 The Aroostook Woods. 

shakes his head, eyes the Commodore once more, and disap- 
pears beneath the surface. 

' ' Worthy Commodore ? " 

"Say it." 

"Let's take the lady out for a dance." 

"All right ! lunch box and luncheon?" 

"Sure!" 

Down the lake, over the smooth mirrors, then through the 
tiniest of little wavelets, so small, so many, all silvered, glis- 
tening and flashing in the sunlight, where it is just rippled by 
the breeze, we speed along, with little jets of water flying 
straight up, and falling back again from the sharp prow of the 
canoe like a little fountain, and with the long wake behind 
widening out and ending in small, wavy undulations far 
astern. A splash upon the water here and there, leaving 
many waving circles, shows us just where, and remain upon 
the surface long enough for one to drop a fly upon the very 
spot for the silver roach or speckled beauty lying just beneath. 

The loons having already sighted us, are singing out to us 
their welcome "Halloo — hoo ! " then diving to pursue the 
small fish, presently show up again at a little distance, shake 
their heads, flap their wings, and laugh again in their well 
fed happiness, as down they go for another fish, up again 
soon, and always greeting you merrily. 

" Here we are, Mr. Crew, at the mouth of a jolly little 
brook, and one we know of old." 

" Shall we prospect it?" 

" Agreed ! after luncheon." 

We drop down shore and pull up at the first trickle, and 
soon our smoke is curling up among the branches and lazily 
drifting off down the lake, away from the game, if any, 
which we propose to interview up the brook. 



The Commodore and Crew. 319 



After luncheon, the lady receives us again, and heads out 
against the wind, now breezing up, and dances back to the 
brook, swings half around and glides in at its mouth, then 
through the lilies and on up the brook. And here the scene 
changes. 

" Hi ! isn't this gamey, Mr. Crew? " 

"Surely." 

Away up ahead a flock of black ducks are just swimming 
to cover, and will be pretty sure to fly as soon as they get 
around the turn of the stream. 

"No! say Commodore, you could pick one out with your 
rifle ; I should like one." 

"No, let them get used to us, we want to see what lives up 
here. How would you like a moose, Mr. Crew?" 

" Honest Indian ; truly, I don't want any." 

" But a nice set of antlers? " 

"Ah ! that's different; a supurb set I should like. A nice 
fat deer we have, and a caribou now is all sufficient for us." 

" 'Tis true; and much easier to handle, so we won't hunt 
for a moose, but they shan't bite us." 

The stream crooks about and we skim close in along the 
shore, and dodge across, to keep the wind from giving us 
away to the game, if any ahead of us, but have poor success 
in this, after all ; for as we get near to the head of navigation 
it is blowing from us toward a fine buck caribou feeding near 
the edge of the stream. 

"Of course he'll smell us," whispered the Commodore, 
"he don't know as much as a mule, to feed along with his 
nose to the wind." 

He is directly head on, so we slide across stream out of his 
sight a moment, then a little along the shore, when we drift 



320 The Aroostook Woods. 

out a bit, hoping for a quartering shot at least, but the strong 
breeze has borne to him an unusual scent in the pure air, and 
when the little lady first shows her head by the turn, he 
wheels and shows his heels, as he trots in the too handy 
bushes. A waving of the branches for a short piece is seen, 
marking his route, then his head and antlers as he stops far 
beyond just a half moment to look back. 

We turn about for the lake and camp, and the Commodore, 
usually of a quiet, calm manner, now actually bubbles up, 
while thinking of the buck, and remarks : 

"Even now I shan't get very angry," and "good evening, 
this time ; but the next time we visit you we shall invite you to 
camp, and think you will go, too. The idea of your running 
away when you have callers is ridiculous. Why ! you haven't 
even a caribou's curiosity ; and we consider you a big, fat 
foolish—" 

"Was he very fat, Commodore?" 

" Sure ! I had a glimpse of him as he jumped around ; short, 
fat, and as round as an apple." 

" Gracious ! " 

On our way down we see another feeding spot tramped over 
by the caribou, but do not stop to further investigate, satisfied 
that the chances are many, and game enough all about the 
lake and streams. Our ducks seem to have hidden a little 
away from the stream some place, likely feeding on the little 
baby frogs, in some sunny puddle inland. 

The sun is always travelling too fast for us when enjoying 
the fine days, and now is nearly in the southwest, and we dip 
more lively for the lake, while the long waving ripples lap 
the shore upon each side of the stream behind us. A mus- 
quash ducks down his head and goes sliding plump into the 



The Commodore and Crew. 321 

"water as we reach for the rifle, proving discretion to be the 
better part of valor. Nothing in the game line that is so eata- 
ble should long remain in sight, just now, for after being so 
shamefully treated by the buck, we are not "too soft upon the 
bit," rather a bit revengeful. 

"Hark!" 

" Quack, quack ! " 

"Opposite, Commodore, just a trifle in the rear. Time 
enough, they don't mistrust anything ; that's a lover's quack, 
too ; mild, low, endearing, soothing, kind, caressing, loving, 
gentle." 

"Great guns! can't you ever hush? what a tirade! you 
never '1 have the lockjaw." 

Meantime we push ashore under the bushes, side on, hard 
up ; the stern paddle is pushed down in the mud, holding that 
end, forward ditto. The Commodore peeping through the 
bushes, waits a bit, gets two just in range, and fires, waking 
the echoes far over the ridges, changing for a half moment the 
still quietness of the stream, and five black ducks are flying 
through the air for other waters, but two of them come with 
us. One has a deep furrow plowed across its back, showing 
its fat condition ; the other, the big drake, has a piece taken 
out from the back of his head, as if 'twere done with a half 
inch gouge. Laying them side by side in the centre of the 
birch, we find ourselves often looking over our shoulder upon 
the fine game. 

The wind has freshened out upon the lake, blowing side 
on, but not sea enough to give us a deep trough. The Com- 
modore again is pulling his strong stroke, with more and then 
less twist of the paddle, according to the force of the wind 
upon the windward bow, and the canoe's falling off her 



3 2 



2 2 



The Aroostook Woods. 



course ; whilst the crew, as usual, must dip plumb and steady ; 
and the little lady always, so agreeable (though giddy, gay 
and airy with the zephyrs) now walks loftily on like any high 
born dame stepping lightly over all the ups and downs, hold- 
ing her head up proudly, and directly on the line for the 
landing. 

" Camp ahoy ! " 

This is pretty early returning, after all, but it is better so to 
do. We have had a nice time sailing ; are back to our com- 
fortable quarters long before it is dark, giving us plenty of 
time for a good supper and to cut our new back logs. How 
quiet such a camping looks, with no one at home but the 
birds, and they are all quiet now as we approach the landing. 
Some rock maple logs, split in quarters, stand beside a tree, 
showing brightly in the sun ; already they are half seasoned, 
suggesting more elegant broiling coals. The tent is as left in 
the morning, raised up a little from the bottom, allowing the 
sun to shine in, drying our fir bed upon the ground ; and the 
sleeping bags, upon a pole beside the well-dried bear skin, 
are just moving back and forth in the breeze. We step 
ashore, straighten up, and are ready to meet each small duty, 
knowing well that to enjoy our camping first rate, feel fine, 
and have a good appetite, we should work as well as play. 

Often thinking of the fine antlers that the wary buck which 
jilted us so cruelly had carried off with him, we were plan- 
ning the day following to get even with him, by strategy in 
some way, and spoke of laying in wait for him near his 
feeding ground. But a question arose, and referring to our 
log book, we found the week had again run out, and this was 
another Sabbath morn. So we write down another Sunday, 
and really enjoy the quiet day about the camp, and then the 
taking of the lady out for an airing, just at evening. 



The Commodore and Crew. 323 

In the afternoon of the next day the Commodore, after 
finishing a cigar, really startles ns with the intelligence that 
he has an idea. 

"What is it, if you please? and I think you'd better tie it." 

' ' I've got him ! " 

' ' Is he down ? " 

"Not yet, but he shall be." 

" Gracious ! " 

"Now, Mr. Crew, what's your best, thought-up plan to 
get that buck's horns ? " 

"I haven't thought; it's such a bother." 

"Well, in that case, we are going torch shooting." And 
immediately he sets about his preparations. 

"Mr. Commodore, what are we going to do for a good 
jack light ? " 

"We have it in pieces." 

"I haven't seen it." 

"You have, indeed ; there hangs the fry pan ; in my box, 
the wire ; on the trees, the crooked cedar limbs to support the 
pan ; on the shore, the fat pine for the torch, and elegant it 
is, too, as it burns like a candle, and if this isn't suiting you, 
we have bears' oil, spruce gum, birch bark, pork, bacon, 
butter" — 

"Hold up, Commodore; spare the little butter, or you 
touch my 'tender feelings. I am already completely won over 
011 the pitchy pine, and am your most enthusiastic admirer." 

" 'Tis well ! this thing shall be done ! and all made ready, 
previous to the time when the shades of eve prevail." 
"I say, Commodore; you have forgotten something." 
"Forgotten nothing ; for between us and the light, stretched 
upon a frame, we will use the rubber blanket, already torn in 
its centre, just right for the peeping chance." 



324 The Aroostook Woods. 

" Gracious me ! " 

Just at dark, having everything arranged in the canoe for 
our expedition, we take the paddle and move away as 
cautiously as if a moose was close before us, when we 
little expect to see any large game until we have leisurely 
skirted the shore around, and the stream's centre, to well up 
on its navigable waters, where it shows their trampings, and 
feeding grounds, and where they have bitten off the lilies and 
grasses ; and we have seen their tracks leading in and out of 
the water. The night is just good enough, favorable and 
fine, with just stars enough to see our way. 

"The wind blowing down stream is our biggest, fine 
point," remarks the Commodore. 

We can see our way nicely as we glide silently, close 
in along the shore of the lake, through and over the black 
shadows of the evergreens, and under the overhanging trees 
and bushes. And over the smooth water the dip of the paddle 
scarcely makes an audible sound ; showing only occasionally 
a light bubble upon the surface. We often disturb and some- 
times astonish the small game that are always astir in the 
evening. Always listening for any stir or movement on 
shore, we often hear those big sounds from little feet, as a 
mink or rabbit would jump away through the leaves when 
the canoe ran close beside them. They seem astonished to 
see us creeping slowly along in the night time, and by the 
sounds from them, they wait a bit to have a look at us before 
skipping away. And "Mr. Owl" scarcely ever allows you to 
pass without having the impudence to introduce himself with 
his "hoo-hoo-hoo ! too-hoo-00 !" if in the evening. But this 
fellow's greeting is mild compared with the old screecher — 
the big joker — that fairly jumps you, in the night, if not 



> 

o 

> 
O 

o 

> 



K 
> 
O 

H 

O 



H 

o 



o 
2: 




320 The Aroostook Woods. 



expecting him, with his sardonic laugh, a sound more fitting 
for the panther or Indian devil, and has, in fact, often been 
taken for such by those unacquainted with either, startling 
them much, when they ask with wide-opened eyes, "What's 
that ? " 

The ducks are feeding on the stream to-night, and are 
chasing each other about, with low quack and gabble, until 
we are very near them, when they all fly away in the darkness 
without as loud quacks as usual, for which we thank them. 
An old frog that has been half asleep, watching them out of 
one eye while at their play, now rejoicing at their departure, 
wakes up and breaks out in a loud " ker chung ! ker chung ! " 
when he is quickly answered by his little grandson, that was 
hidden beneath a lily pad across the stream, with a " peet — 
peet, peet — peetaweet ! peet — peet, peet ! 

Coming to the small, sandy islands well up the stream, 
we remember that they were not here in our early days, but 
have formed of late years. Perhaps at the first a bush lodged 
upon the rocks ; this forming the nucleus, catching and holding 
twigs, limbs, grass, leaves, earth, and sand, until now, and 
we see pretty, grassy islands, where once two or three rocks 
only showed above the water. As they loom up in the 
darkness, and as we are about landing, we hear strange 
sounds in the water beyond, which at first we do not account 
for. The sounds are like slaps upon the water, making loud 
reports, when all is still again for a moment, when it is 
repeated. Whack — whack — -whack! sounding loud in the 
still night. 

"What is it, Commodore, a moose?" 

" Neither moose nor caribou ; let's run ashore on the island 
and light up." 



The Commodore and Crew. 327 

We touch a match to our pile of combustibles in the fry 
pan, adjust the screen between us and the light, then push out 
by the island and up the stream. In the meantime the sounds 
had ceased, but are now heard again, as we just move slowly 
along-. Whack — whack ! whack ! — whack ! so near and 
so loud, we likened it to the reports of a pistol. As we 
moved on, the stream was well lighted ahead, yet the sounds 
continued, and soon we saw just before us a huge beaver. 
He was slapping his broad, heavy, paddle-shaped tail, to 
right and left, upon the smooth water, swimming slowly 
ahead, rolling from side to side, like a sailor (as he is at 
times) and, seemingly, as brim full of hilarity. The Com- 
modore's thumb is pressed hard on the hammer of his rifle, 
and he hates to loose this fine shot, but as he settles down 
again upon his knees, a low "boo!" is heard just above; 
the beaver goes under, leaving widening circles that reach 
and pass us, rising and falling beside the canoe, as we noise- 
lessly scull slowly toward the sound we know to be from a 
caribou. We are resting upon our knees in the birch canoe, 
the Commodore peeping through the opening in the blanket, 
with our light burning up most too brightly, we fear, when 
quickly from the Commodore we hear the low, low " Hist ! " 
and lower whispers, "Left, left; steady!" and the canoe is 
heading square across the stream, and pointing for the little 
cove, when — crack! speaks his rifle. A splashing jump in 
the water, and all is again quiet. 

The crew, thinking the deed is done, leans a little way out 
to look beyond the rubber blanket, and just as he makes out 
the dark form, a high head and antlers, eyes all a blaze of 
light — crack! again says the rifle. A sprawling plunge in 
the cove, heavy splashings, a sputtering snort, and soon all is 
once more as still as ever. 



32S The Aroostook Woods. 

The Commodore breaks the quiet with the first loud out- 
spoken word of the evening, "Let there be light!" and 
quickly piles on the fatty pine, while the crew paddles up to 
the noble game. 

" Mr. Crew, how are those for horns? " 

"Superb!" 

" Short and thick, and as round as an apple," says the 
Commodore, as the buck rolls over on his side; "and I 
should recognize you among a dozen of your kind. We 
three have met before, and now you shall be welcome at the 
camp." 

"Mr. Crew." 

"Yes, sir." 

" Will you please reverse and take this gentleman's left 
antler ? " 

The Commodore now plying the paddle, the buck floating 
easily along beside the canoe, we are soon down upon the 
island just below. Stepping on shore, we make two bright 
fires from the driftwood and our remaining pitchy pine, one 
upon each side of us, to give a nice light for our work. Now 
sliding the buck up the hard, grassy shore, between the fires, 
we proceed to remove its jacket as soon as possible, and 
while it can be done the nicest and the easiest. Our bright 
fires light up the island, quite a piece up and down and across 
the stream, on the shore opposite. The canoe lying beside 
the shore ; a rifle leaning out at the stern end ; another stand- 
ing within easy reach of the Commodore; the fry pan raised 
high upon stilts in the bow of the canoe, with its black and 
smouldering brands, and the few live coals that the breezes 
fan to a brightness ; the gleaming hunting axe lying upon 
the shore — this alone would make a rare picture of a night 



The Commodore and Crew. ^29 

hunting scene, that would look wild and weird, could we 
have photographed it. 

But to describe the hunt, w r e must add to this, though extra 
touches often mar, rather than improve. The Commodore 
and his crew, their coats off and hanging upon the bushes 
behind them, with sleeves high rolled, and bending over their 
prey (which is lying upon its back, partly disrobed) like 
slaughtering demons, talking in lowest, muttering tones, 
moving their long, skinny arms up and down, while in their 
hands they are flourishing bright, gleaming knives, which are 
constantly flashing in the firelight, their faces showing wicked 
in the red glare, as they raise them to glance stealthily about, 
and those demonical smiles always seen to wreathe the lips of 
such, in full bloom upon each ruddy countenance. 

"Hark! " 

"What is it, Mr. Crew?" 

" I heard the snap of a dry alder." 

"Well," whispers the Commodore, " sh — quiet: — only look 
over there." 

And on the opposite shore three caribou were standing, and 
three pair of large shining eyes were gazing wonderingly upon 
us. The Commodore's hand stole toward his rifle, but he 
touched it not, though had he so wished he could very easily 
have made a sure centre shot between the eyes of the largest 
one at the short distance. For a moment we looked them 
quietly over, while they stood as motionless as statues. Then 
on resuming our work, the largest one moved quietly up the 
shore, the other two turn their heads, look after it, and slowly 
follow, all disappearing as noiselessly as they came. 

Having dressed the buck and divided it in quarters, we 
pack it in the middle part of the canoe, with clean branches 



330 The Aroostook Woods. 



and their leaves, under and over it, take down our now useless 
jack-light arrangement, extinguish the fires, Commodore and 
crew lift the birch bark well off the shore, and we are once 
more floating out upon the stream. Around the island and 
away we go through the darkness now on the way for camp, 
more heavily laden and a little more muscle is employed, 
yet no heavy labor is required to go quickly, moving by the 
dark growth that shows us plainly each side of the stream. 
Around the many turns, through the narrows and out upon 
the lake again where it is much lighter and we feel the breeze 
freshen upon our faces as we point the bark toward the camp- 
ing ground. Shaping our course by the higher lands and 
tallest trees which are now easily seen, we dip the paddles 
both at the same time, and so evenly from habit, that it is a 
slight disturbance to find either out of time, and if so, quickly 
we catch the stroke again ; and like machinery that is true and 
perfect in its working, as w r e apply the power the bark again 
moves smooth and evenly over the waves ; fast or slow, as 
impelled by the strength of the regular strokes of the paddles. 
And now just before us are the well known tall tops of the 
evergreens outlined upon the sky by the first light of another 
day's breaking, showing the vicinity of, and soon spots of our 
white canvass between the trees, assures us a resting place 
which is very welcome this morning after our long pull over 
the waters. 

After a cup of coffee and a venison steak we get a little 
sleep, and then as the sailors say, "all hands on deck -for 
duty." 

Our meat after hanging in the trees a day or two to become 
a little tender, we prepare the greater part of it for smoking 
and drying. It is cut from the bone in suitable sized pieces, 



The Commodore and Crew. 331 

well rubbed with fine salt, with a sprinkling of sugar, and 
left packed in this from morning until evening. 

A smoke house is built beside a large green birch tree, by 
driving four stakes in form of a square, and about five feet 
high. To these are fastened with birch withes many small 
cane like sticks or poles, with the venison hanging from them, 
tier above tier. One side is enclosed by the tree, which adds 
its warmth and assists as a chimney ; one side left open to 
feed the fire from time to time, which is but little more than 
a warm smudge ; the two others and the top are covered with 
bark to keep out the wind and the wet. If it is likely to be 
pretty breezy, we leave the leeward side open to add the green 
chips for the smoking, taking care to avoid a blaze, and too 
much heat. It is soon cured in this manner, dried and 
shrunken, so that much can be packed in a small space. The 
smoke helps much as a preservative, and shoos away the blue 
tail fly. 

A few more days about the lake cruising to the many beau- 
tiful brooks, and up and down the charming inlet with its 
many windings and gamey little coves and points, spending 
lots of time about camp taking it leisurely, enjoying fine days 
in the sun with the breezes, and lovely evenings by the cheer- 
ful hard wood fire, the pure bracing mornings with their 
glorious sunrisings, a tramp now and then over the high hills 
and ridges, finding an abundance of partridges, and often 
starting up and away the larger game, to find another and 
more secluded chance to finish their resting and ruminating; 
curing and drying our large trout and venison, in the mean 
time trying, with what facilities we had, about all the ways 
of frying, roasting, broiling, stewing and smothering our 
venison, birds and fish, were very pleasantly passed. 



332 The Aroostook Woods. 

After this comes long rainy clays and nights, raising the 
lake and streams to a very high stage of water. 

Then on a fine breezy morning, feeling confident of the 
nice weather again coming on, and taking into consideration 
the high run of water so favorable for slipping down the long 
rocky river, the rather low ebb of some, if not many, of our 
little luxuries, to say nothing of the ebbing to the last ebb of 
such little condiments as give a fine relish to venison, we 
began to talk of moving for the States (as the lumbermen say 
when about to leave the forest for home,) and now speaks the 
worthy Commodore. 

"Well, now, what's been the trouble with this, anyway, 
for a very high, wild and lively, gay and jolly, happy cruise? 
let's pack and run down to the carry today." 

"It's a vote ! " 

An hour later everything is picked up, packed, wrapped, 
tied and covered, and the miscellaneous heap lying upon the 
shore is then placed snugly in the canoe. After turning and 
looking over our camping ground which had seemed like a 
home to us, a tinge of sadness was felt at leaving the spot we 
had so much enjoyed, with the pleasant days, and so com- 
fortably rested at night upon the fragrant fir boughs. We 
step into the bark and push away with feelings a little mixed, 
perhaps, reminding us much of the Indian, who on being asked 
if he was real happy, now that he was married, when he 
replid : "I dunno ! guess so, may be ; sometime I velly glad, 
but more time, velly, velly sorry." 

Out upon the lake we find a fine southerly breeze, and in 
our favor; the day is truly fine, and as we once more look 
down ahead over the waters, we say that they are pretty again 
to-day. And truly, are they not mostly always pretty? Even 



The Commodore and Crew. 333 

when running a little wild and high? Unless old Boieas is, 
with coldest breath, sweeping the lake so furiously, as if he 
had but short time to convert it all into little blue mountains, 
with snowy white caps on each. 

And pretty are the wooded hills, that are yet wearing a 
few ot their gay colors ; some of the trees yet bright with the 
last golden shades of autumn, are seen in cheery contrast with 
the evergreens, foliage of the spruce and fir. Some of the 
latter, straight and tall, growing high up on the ridge, we 
fancy — yes, are sure, that they are bowing their heads to us ; 
gracefully bending and bowing as we pass by them, and say- 
ing good-bye. Good-bye, pretty evergreens, so stately and 
tall, growing way up above us, and all about "God's 
country," we acknowledge your elegance, and fine manners, 
and now take off our hats to you all, and catch the spirit of 
the breezes which animate you. 

Our coats are off and lying with our hats, for being well 
rested for the trip, all fresh for our work, we do not mind 
getting warmed up, but are really enjoying the healthy exer- 
cise with the paddle. We advocate the healthfulness of per- 
spiration, and its necessity, and are now putting our theory in 
practice, having no fear of taking cold on such a trip. For 
should we feel a hint to the contrary, the paddle again, or 
other exercise would soon remove all symptoms. We may 
warm up quick, but must cool off gradually. What com- 
pletes the cure is, sleeping at night with a fine fire at our feet, 
and the pure cool air about our heads, for we step out in the 
morning feeling the elegant effect of this, so free from any 
stifled, dull feeling, so fresh, strong, and cheery, and with 
such an appetite for the jolly breakfast, which, we think, 
should be a hearty meal, that we find it instead of any task, 



334 The Aroostook Woods. 

to be really a pleasure to do our own cooking. And again 
we say, that truly the good old Doctor was correct, "when he 
advised ''keeping the feet warm and the head cool." Ah-oo- 
o-o, speaks the loon, but not in his usual merry tone ; it is 
his low, long-drawn cry, for he sees us putting on our coats 
and hats again, and no doubt he feels lonesome, and a bit 
sorry to have us leave now, we have become so well acquaint- 
ed and friendly. 

We pass close by the happy family, leaving them unharmed, 
to dive often and again, and to swim down and capture the 
little fishes all through the day, and at night, and at the mid- 
night hour, as the moon shines brightly out, to call and 
awake the echoes o'er and o'er, over the ridges and mountains 
far away. 

Islands ahoy ! Even to-day, in the bright sunshine, you 
are looming up larger and more fair every moment as we 
approach you, and if it were possible, are looking more 
beautiful than ever as we greet you all. Your pretty trees 
again are lightly swaying with the breezes, w r hile our mag- 
nificent friends, the eagles, soar high above your topmost 
branches. We pass close in by the granite foundations of the 
islands, their sea wall of protection, and presently, little by 
little, we feel the current aiding us as the lake narrows and 
the outlet is approached. The lake being full from the 
heavy rains, the water is running out over the old dam, and 
by its end it has found a new channel down through a portion 
of the woods. We allow the bark to almost have her own 
way out of the lake, and as she feels this new current she 
goes slipping by the end of the dam into the old supply road, 
now flooded with the high water. Skipping quickly over, 
from an extra dip of the paddle, the old logs, which are 



The Commodore and Crew. 335 

partly imbedded, lying crosswise of the road, and some pretty 
near the surface ; so near that it is sometimes a rub and hardly 
a go, but the lady pleases to go, then turns short, down 
another road, and the stream is in sight again through the 
trees ; when, dodging a large rock upon one side, a jam of old 
logs upon the other, with next a windfall of green trees, and 
by quick and adroit paddling (for which, thanks to the Com- 
modore,) we shoot out upon the main stream and drift to 
shore over a quiet eddy. Here the crew, feeling much 
relieved, after a long-drawn sigh, is fain to eulogize. But we 
tarry only for a moment, and after a little trimming ship, by 
a trifling shifting of cargo, the lady is again running away 
with us. Slowly at the first, she moves out over the waters 
that are eddying around and up stream ; soon she feels the 
stronger current, slides quickly down a little descent, then over 
quicker, stronger water, steadily on, pointing for a very narrow 
passage between rocks where the waters are in haste to draw 
together, and are then crowding madly through, rising higher 
and higher in the passage ; and as the lady passes through, in 
one troubled furrow of the waters, the others upon each side 
dash each a bucketful upon the little lady, as they carry us 
downward through a crooked pathway between the boulders, 
where we skip from right to left to avoid them, and then 
straight downward, over fair, free water and swift sailing, to 
the little lake, and we are soon at the carry. 

Starting in good season in the morning, being aided much 
by the favorable breeze coming down the lake, the short cut 
we took advantage of over the old supply road, that had 
become a little river from the rains, and the swift run down 
the rapids, brings us much earlier at the carry than expected, 
so we decide to keep on and make the transfer before luncheon. 



-^6 The Aroostook Woods. 



Laying out the contents of the canoe upon the shore of the 
lake, at our old camp ground, and sizing it up, it does not 
look so very formidable after all, and speaking of this, the 
Commodore remarks : — 

"We must have eaten something while on the trip." 

And as if it was highly essential that the larder be replen- 
ished and added to immediately, looks behind him, takes his 
rifle, and commences popping at a full covey of partridges 
that he saw just walking out to view, and toward the old 
ashes again. Now at this time, just and quite naturally, too, 
the crew was sitting down upon the shore, back too, looking 
dreamily from under the circling rings of the smoke from the 
brierwood, away across the lake, upon the sunny hills, when, 
at the sudden crack of the rifle, he jumps, quicker than a 
Madawaska Frenchman, and exclaims : — 

"Accident!" 

" Oh, no-o-o ! incident." 

But the fluttering bird upon the ground explains ; and soon 
he joins in. And now a merry fusilade is going on, and 
many birds from the large flock are flying up in the ever- 
greens for safety, as they think, but only those that make the 
second or third long flight, escape, and live to again dust 
themselves in the ashes of the river-drivers old camp ground. 
Gathering together the birds, we each lift a pack from the 
canoe load upon our shoulders, and go forward for the falls. 

The canoe and all its burden being now over the carry, and 
lying upon the shore before us, we sit down for a moment to 
rest (being so ordered, so to do, peremptorily,) and to watch 
the Commodore (under the circumstances,) with a pleased 
admiration, as he so handily gets up the luncheon. 

To-day, as the wind is blowing high and low, whirling and 




BUCK AND DOE DEER. 



33S The Aroostook Woods. 

varying, it is just glorious to listen to the music of the falls, 
and its waters talking with the winds. For now that the 
lakes and streams are running full up to the high-water 
marks, the waters come pouring over the falls in wide sheets, 
smoothing, though not improving, their beauty. Their 
deep voices, powerful and grand, when combined with the 
winds, are swelling out, often in varying tones, and then 
borne away by the winds, ending in low strains, whilst others 
are constantly taking their place, continuing the wild music. 
Their voices are often being interrupted and changed by the 
winds, yet they speak out again in clear, high tones, and then 
louder and more decided ; and the winds hushing, cease to 
trouble them for a moment, when the waters have their way. 
But soon all are talking together again ; they grow more and 
more excited ; first one, then the other, has the loudest voice, 
and now they seem to compromise, for all are murmuring 
together, harmoniously, in mild, low tones, and soon they are 
all singing together, in unison, a wild-wood lullaby. 

It would hardly be a full showing of the hunters' luncheon 
time without the black kettle (we must again remark,) for as 
we see it now just from the spring and it is hung over the 
blaze, the sparkling drops of water trickling down its sides, 
swinging back and forth before steadying to its place, we 
think the Commodore has just completed the picture. 

The smoke is ascending straight up for a little way, hurry- 
ing at the first on its mission, then settling back, vexed at 
being opposed by the winds, goes rolling and curling about, 
still trying to escape upward, only to be driven away at the 
last, down among the alder bushes, to finish up the misery of 
the late, half-dead mosquitoes. 

The Commodore has measured out and thrown in the coffee 



The Commodore and Crew. 339 



for two, and placing now the blackened kettle upon the coals, 
though well covered, it is immediately throwing up the lid 
and puffing out upon the air a fragrance that is well appre- 
ciated. With a quarter of the little buck deer lying upon 
some cedar splits for a table, he is now slicing for the broiler. 

"How?" 

"Well?" 

" Oh ! I thought you were speaking, worthy Commodore ; 
it must have been a voice from the noisy falls." 

"I did suggest, Mr. Crew, unto myself, however, that 
venison steak was good enough for me, broiled; even, 
broiled " 

And he further quietly remarks, rather derogatorily, as to 
our frying process, much like the following : — 

"A change is to take place at this camping chaiice ; for 
this part of the squadron does not cook so much after the 
usual style ; I say, we are not to have the old-fashioned fry, 
fry, frying, as usual ; fish fried and fried fish, and fried 
venison, fried." 

So, to-day noon, we had delicious broiled venison. Our 
small saddles of venison have been kept secure from the flies, 
hanging in the coolest chance day and night, and already it is 
getting quite tender and improving in flavor. If wishing to 
keep it as long as possible, when the weather is rather warm, 
we wrap it snug in tenting cloth or something as suitable, and 
place it entirely under water in a cool spring or cool spring 
brook, and if this is attended to within good time, and with 
good care (not don't care,) it will keep many days. Even 
after the outside has become almost white from long soaking, 
and must be cut away, the inner part will be found well 
preserved, very tender, sweet, and very nice. 



340 The Aroostook Woods. 

"Luncheon! Lunch-e-on ! " 

"'I! yi! yi!" 

Luncheon over, the orders are : — 

"All aboard for down river! And, Mr. Crew, it's a nice 
way not to forget anything at this station, as we can't stop the 
coach on this down-hill grade." 

" Thanks, Commodore, but I couldn't leave my brierwood 
behind, you know." 

With our cargo well stowed, and raised a little from under- 
neath to guard against getting soaked from the water which 
we might take in on the run down, covered with the rubber, 
and the little lady in the nicest trim from the proper placing 
of her budgets (thanks to the new cook that can't fry fish or 
venison,) away we go. Out in the swift current, then down, 
ever down, running more and more swiftly, as the pretty 
heavily burdened little lady catches well up to time with the 
current. Then to the right, as it presents the smoother 
chance for a piece ahead. The Commodore, by the slightest 
movements, guiding the- lady between and by the rocks, and 
now she is going almost as she pleases for a long way, until 
it looks mixed and wild again just before us, when he stands 
up in the stern to look ahead, as he plies the paddle, and she 
is making quick darts from right to left as she goes wildly 
rushing down through many narrow chances, like an arrow 
shot from the bow. Soon again, quickly, to the left, "hard 
over ! " now out again to the centre of the stream, pointing 
straight for, and passing safe through an angry, boiling rapid, 
where the water is white about the rocks that are showing 
upon each side of us their dark, jagged faces, with sharp, 
hungry jaws that would tear the little lady wicked could they 
but reach out a few inches more to bite her as she bravely and 



The Commodore and Crew. 341 

safely skips by them. And on, on, down we go, yet more 
swiftly, "to the left; steady!" and straight between the 
boulders. A slight rub against the starboard side, a little 
dry pitch dusting off from a seam flies out upon the air, and 
the lady is dancing up and down upon a few high rollers, for 
a moment only, and now she bows lightly, before quickly 
raising her head, as she feels herself urged forcibly along by 
the paddles, and then, as if to break away entirely from a 
more violent urging, leaps far out over " the shelf rock" and 
sits down, as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, 
upon the smooth water below. 

"No stops, Mr. Crew; this is a through train," says the 
Commodore, as a caribou just shows himself down below, 
when he turns, and is off the way he came. 

The ducks, thoroughly disgusted with our company at the 
upper lake, are on the stream below us, and now rise from 
out the bend and point us out the direct line and nearest route 
to their old feeding grounds above. 

A few moments more and we are lying the lady upon the 
shore, at our first camp ground, on our way up the river, 
weeks before. 

" Hillo ! a mink; and you're the scamp that stole the 
trout." 

He skips off up the brook as we are landing, and as he is 
now more black and glossy, we shall tender him an invite to 
accompany us home. 

Everything being undisturbed and as we left it, with the fir 
bed still a bright green and dry, plenty of driftwood handy 
by, we are soon most satisfactorily situated for the night. 

The Commodore's face lights up with a pleased expectation 
as he hears the trout again splashing just below the pcol ; 



34 3 



The Aroostook Woods. 



and immediately the tent is all straightened up, and the lady 
resting in her former snug quarters ; he is soon gathering 
them in from the wet again, after which, later on, when 
'* supper" is announced, notwithstanding he has been known 
to occasionally whisper somewhat against the crisp and crispy 
frying mode, we are pleased to see him heartily enjoy a fried 
trout supper. 

The next morning proves fine, as we predicted, for which 
— now that we are on the homeward trail for civilization and 
friends once more — we often smile our thanks. The Com- 
modore is gently coaxing the little beauties, the trout, often 
cruelly deceiving them and placing them in his basket, insist- 
ing it never hurts them and they don't mind it, for this is 
the superior element to which he is introducing them. Mean- 
while the breakfast has been slowly budding out, and now, 
with the coffee boiling, it is in full bloom. 

"All hands, ahoy ! Breakfast ! " 

After this, we take the little lady, all light and free again, 
without her many travelling bags, and she runs away with us 
to a larger brook, noted for its cool waters and capital fishing. 
After running quite a piece up, we turn about, and the Com- 
modore whips the stream to right and left, and ahead, with 
the flies, as we paddle slowly down again. He picks them 
out in many places on the way down, finishing up below the 
mouth of the stream, with many larger ones that had shied 
away on ahead of us, and kindly waited there in the deeper 
water. Here stealing slowly out of the mouth of the stream, 
the little lady was laid on shcre just above the deeper water, 
when, after waiting a short time for them to get quieted 
down, the Commodore, by casting his flies very lightly upon 
the pool and allowing them to sink quite a little down in the 



The Commodore and Crew. 34.3 

water before trailing, succeeded in capturing the large, wary 
ones. Then back to camp, long before the dinner hour; and 
while the crew prepares a luncheon and a cup of tea, the 
Commodore snugly bundles up all the lady's burden, and gets 
her all ready for the last part of her journey by water, down 
the now smooth-running river and over the lake. And in an 
even forty-five minutes, from returning from fishing, we are 
again guiding the lady downward, over the river. 

For a long time w r e are sailing over smooth water, yet run- 
ning quick and strong, making fast time with such a current, 
often close in shore, where it is more rapid ; then out again 
to midstream. And at a time during the afternoon's rather 
dull light, owing to the peculiar condition of the atmosphere 
(which the crew could not explain,) the dark, smooth, deep 
water has seemed, to look ahead at it, a steep, down-hill 
grade ; and as if the next moment we must surely slide down- 
ward with such velocity as to run the little lady completely 
under. Was it a mirage? But instead she sails over it all 
the same as before, steadily down over the smooth, slightly 
inclined mirror. 

After which we see pictured again to-day, and as many 
have seen often before, all varying and changing sufficiently, 
to be always an ever delight, as they pass by them, and are 
always pleased to see again and again, the banks and the 
trees pictured in the smooth waters beloiv. Large and 
ancient pine stumps, more than old, more than gray with age, 
their level cut tops mossed over with gray, yet sound, and as 
well as the rocks, will be with the picture for a lifetime ; and 
old granite boulders, on the shores beneath the trees, gray 
mossed to their tops, and on the top of one lying more in the 
sunlight, we notice as we pass, large flakes of elegant " stag 
horn moss," which we are very loath to leave behind. 



344 The Aroostook Woods. 

And now we cut across from the sunlighted bank to the 
right hand and the little lady is going quietly through the 
deep shadows, without urging, by the darker banks, where 
the sun is hardly known ever to smile upon them. And 
beneath these thickets of evergreens, upon the everywhere 
mossy bank, it is very, very pretty, for the large granite rocks 
are nearly covered with green and gray mosses, with a wealth 
of pretty green ferns so elegant and so very perfect in their 
form, growing at the base of the rocks, between, and in their 
crevices, where they will here escape the hard frosts, until 
others are withered in exposed situations, will be covered 
with snow, and yet, protected by that all through the winter, 
will come out in the spring time all green again, after the 
warm rains. And all are shaded by the thick, dense ever- 
greens that are ever beautiful, and though the sun scarcely 
shines upon their river side, they keep their rich green, and 
are never chary of their fragrance. 

Then crossing again and along the banks where the sun so 
much is shining, we pass many thrifty clumps of the high 
bush cranberry, well loaded yet with fruit, large, fair, crimson 
clusters, hanging handy for the picking, all of which we 
must leave behind for the birds and for the old bear to break 
the bushes down, as he sits up on his haunches with a bush 
bent down under his arm, and luxuriates; and help yourself 
Mr. Bruin, for we cannot, but the only why we don't, is 
because our sugar box is so nearly M T. 

On, a little way, and now the round woods upon the 
opposite attract much attention, and from the birds as well, 
for we see feeding upon their red fruit, so bright, growing 
among the firs, both the crossbills and the robins. So the 
Commodore guides the lady close in and we move so quietly, 



The Commodore and Crew. 345 



that they, being so hungry or so greedy, or so gentle, good 
and tame, do not mind us until very near, and we have the 
pleasure of seeing them duplicated, all busily feeding, far 
down in the water below, in the Indian girl's looking glass. 

We dip a little stronger as the current is weakening as we 
approach the lake. The stream widens out gradually, and 
now we see before us, first, the tiny little wavelets coming in 
from the lake, forming a line across the smooth mirror, then 
ever increasing in size as we look away on beyond ; and out 
on the lake are the large waves, with their snow white crests 
flashing in the sunshine. Now we say good-bye to the pretty 
shady side of the river, with its long line of shadowed beauty, 
one cannot but ever remember ; and the more favored sunny 
side also, with its many bright spots and mellow openings, 
brim full of interests and delights. 

With the wind very favorable, and just the jolliest white 
capped waves to lift the lady as we assist her over and by, 
we soon note the half-way landmark upon the shore, and yet 
quicker still than this, we time the last half, and are at the 
shore, being again welcomed by our jovial host, the fine, old 
farmer. 

TOUT FINI. 




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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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